Mischievous Matchmaking - Wolf Pup Style
by rabidfangirlfromhell
Summary: [STEREK, Derek as a Dad] It's senior year and Scott and Stiles are excited to be heading out of Beacon Hills soon. But Stiles makes an unexpected acquaintance, apparently from his past, who he keeps running into under the weirdest circumstances. This story is in an Alternate Universe - Argents never moved to Beacon Hills, Hale family thrives, and Scott was never turned.
1. Close Encounter of the Baby Kind

"I can't believe it took you this long to get your licenses." The spindly teen nudged his friend in the arm, a smirk on his face. "I mean, it's just in time for graduation." They were waiting at the Beacon Hills secretary of state, home of the longest wait. Stiles had gotten Scott there a bit late, so they hit the rush hour traffic of people trying to get things done so they could go home.

"Dude, you drive me everywhere. Why would I even need to drive? I just got it because you need it to get an ID and I need to send it in for my college application." The slightly shorter boy said as he shrugged.

His friend gawked for a minute as he pulled his legs in a bit so someone could take a seat next to him. "Wait, Scott. You know you can get an ID without knowing how to drive, right? Like your licenses is your ID, but there's also a state ID." He squinted as Scott gave him a slightly baffled look. He reached over and gave him a comforting pat on the back. "Easy there, don't break your brain. Going to need those for finals." Scott grinned at the comment, leaning back in his chair a bit so it reclined backwards.

"Well, shit. All that parallel parking BS and I didn't need to? That was like three weeks of driving school, dude. Not cool."

"Scott, driving is an essential part to adulthood. You need this. You might never drive again but just trust me, it's better to know so you don't kill everyone if you need to drive the getaway car." His reasoning made the other sigh. "Cheer up. Oh, and..." he leaned in to whisper, but at that moment something caught his eye on the floor. "Is that a voodoo doll?"

"What? Dude, what?" Scott almost fell backwards as his chair clanked to the floor, and a woman nearby glared at him as she gave a loud scoff at his sudden panic.

"Under your chair. Hold up, it's not a voodoo doll, just a teddy bear." He reached down and picked it up gingerly, studying it. "...a really, really badly mangled teddy bear."

"Stiles, you almost scared the shit out of me." Scott whispered, looking at the bear. After a few seconds of silence he said assuredly, "Not mine."

"No, really? I thought you carried around a messed up teddy bear all the time. I was just about to ask you if it's yours." Stiles glanced around, propping himself up on the back of the chair to gaze at the assembly of people. "Nope, no kids here. Must have been there awhile."

"What about that guy over there?" Scott said suddenly, jabbing his finger an inch from Stiles' face in the direction of the man. "He's got one of those baby storage thingies."

Stiles slowly turned to his left to look at the most displeased looking individual in the place. He had dark hair, what seemed to be a permanent scowl, and looked like his five o'clock shadow had been extended to a nine o'clock shadow. At first he didn't know what Scott meant by a 'baby storage thingy', until he realized there was a baby carrier sitting on the ground next to the guy, and little feet were sticking out of it.

"Oh. Well, he looks menacing. I'm just going to stick the bear back under the seat and we'll call it a day, eh?" Stiles started leaning over to drop the bear back on the floor, but Scott grabbed his arm, then stared at him for a moment.

"Stiles. What if that's the baby's favorite toy? And it starts screaming in like, ten minutes when it thinks in its little baby brain about what's missing. And we're here for another hour because they've only got two people manning a crowd of like thirty. It's math, Stiles."

"I do hate screaming babies..." Stiles sighed, glancing back over at the intimidating baby-harboring guy. He then realized, this guy was sitting on the end of the aisle- right near the bathrooms. Hey, this could totally work. He could try dropping the toy next to the carrier as he makes a beeline for the bathroom like he's in a hurry.

"Yeah, I'll go try to give it back. One sec." He stood up, stretching a bit before he wiggled his way past Scott's legs and past a passive-looking old man. Trying not to look too obvious of his plan to avoid the king of grump and his princess, he took a wide circle around the waiting chairs and then threw the bear on the carrier.

Well, what he thought was the carrier. Scott had taken that exact moment to give him a thumbs up signal and in his brief distraction, Stiles had chucked the bear not at the baby carrier, but at the guy's leg. It landed on the floor.

The guy at first acted like he didn't notice Stiles' bad aim, but when he saw the bear lying on the floor he narrowed his eyes and looked at the teen. "Did you just grab my kid's toy and then throw it at me?"

"Oh. Oh no, no I didn't do that. See, I was sitting over there with my friend - he's getting his licenses today, you know, took the classes and everything-" Stiles began, his nerves edging into his tone as he hurried on with his explanation. "-And we were sitting there and I look down and I saw this really shitty teddy bear and I'm like wow, this thing has been totaled, but we wanted to return it to the owner and yeah, it looks like your kid is the owner so I was going to just toss it at her and run to the restroom, because I have to pee."

The man maintained his extremely serious poker-face throughout Stiles' impromptu speech, then took a deep breath before he said, "...so you just thought you'd return her teddy bear, and the best course of action was to throw it at her face as she sleeps?"

"No, I mean, yes, but not throw it so much as delicately drop it on her. Not on her, but her carrier. Hey, you know, you look familiar. I mean, you look terrifying, but terrifyingly familiar. Do I know you from somewhere?" Stiles attempted at changing the conversation, but was met with the solid gaze and piercing silence. He slowly backed up, rubbing the back of his neck as he opened his mouth.

Before he could utter another word however, the man said very curtly, "Yeah. I know you. I think I babysat you when I was in high school."

Stiles squinted, mouth still ajar. "...babysat. Yeah. Well, I'm glad we got that out of the way. Have a good baby. I mean, a good day, with your baby." He started to back into the bathroom, but hit the plant behind him. Wobbling a bit, he turned to make his way around it before he felt the presence of the guy standing up behind him, towering.

"Wait, can you watch her a minute? They called my number, and I don't want to wake her up with moving the carrier."

"What?" Before Stiles could object, he was left with the carrier and an empty seat. He looked at Scott, who shrugged and pointed at the baby, then mouthed "sucks". Clearly Scott wasn't going to come over and sit with him and assist with Stiles' new baby-watching duties. Stiles slowly moved over to the seat where the guy had been, and lowered himself in it. It was still warm. "Egh." He said as he tapped his fingers on his knees impatiently, glancing over at the guy again. Wow. Where was this guy pulling all those papers out of? Was his jacket some sort of tardis? "Gonna be awhile," He remarked quietly, finally looking at the beat-up carrier and the baby he was supposedly now in charge of. "Just me and you. Wait, you're sleeping. Sleep."

His curiosity won out after a few minutes, and he slowly moved the sun-block canopy over the baby carrier back a bit to look at the tiny thing's face. That's when two very green and very bright eyes met his. He froze, realizing she wasn't really asleep. Staring at her like they entered a game of 'don't blink', he slowly said, "...you're not sleeping." She continued to look at him, at first not moving, but then her tiny hands started patting the side of the carrier.

"...oh. Oh, you want the bear?" He picked it up off the floor and then held it up to her, his reflexes taking over his actions. "Who's a good little baby who's not going to cry for the stranger watching her? _You're_ that good baby! Here's the bear. Do you want to hug him and be quiet?" The baby stared at him as he wiggled the bear in front of her face. He frowned at her lack of interest in it. "...don't cry. If you cry I'm gonna cry and that's just ugly, trust me. I can cry for hours. You don't want to enter that conte-"

Suddenly her little hands shot out and she ripped the bear from his hand with such force it made him stand up in shock. "**Whoa!**" He said loudly, then glanced around at the crowd, who were all looking at him now. "...I mean, wow. This is a nice baby. I'm babysitting it, it's not mine folks, no need to worry. It just made a sudden movement and I got a little scared, but our bonding is going well. **A+** plus bonding." Under his breath he muttered, "Bonding with the female hulk." He sat back down, then looked at the man at the desk. He was still looking at paper work. What was he doing, paying for parking tickets all the way back into the 1980's? Conveniently, Stiles thought, that actually might be the decade where his leather jacket was from.

He felt a little tug on his pant-leg after a moment, and he glanced down to find the baby had propped herself up and was staring at him from her carrier. The teddy bear was tucked under her little chubby chin. "Awwwwww," He couldn't help but comment, watching her watch him with that cute little bear shoved under her cute little chin. Wait, was he thinking this thing was cute? It could go from cute to siren at any moment. He smiled at her, and she smiled back. "...awwwww, aren't you the cutest thing on the planet? What do you want from me? Nothing could be that sweet and not want something." He reaches down to pat her hair, finding the dark tufts of hair extremely soft. "You _are_ a charmer." He slowly traces his finger down the side of her face, then she grabbed his hand and started rubbing her chin on it.

"Awww, are you itching your face with my hand?" He laughed, tugging his hand away. Immediately she frowned. "Oh no, don't frown. Look, teddy isn't frowning." He picked up the doll and shook it in front of her, then he frowned himself. "...teddy doesn't have a mouth anymore but he's happy to see you!"

"Looks like you two are bonding," Stiles heard from behind him, jumping as he looked over his shoulder and dropped the bear on the kid's face. She let out an indignant snort. The younger boy stood up to look at the older leather-jacket one. Man, this guy was some sort of ninja. He didn't even hear him walk up behind him. The man leaned down and was about to grab the carrier's handle when he paused, looking at Stiles inquisitively, studying him strangely. Stiles felt a chill run down his spine as he pointed at the baby, finding the awkward moment unpleasing without saying something.

"She's a good kid." He said abruptly, shrugging as he crossed his arms against his chest protectively. "Cute."

"Yeah, she's a good kid. Hey, you're sheriff's son, right?" The man picked up the carrier handle with one hand, and held it effortlessly. "Sheriff Stilinksi."

"Um, yep. Sheriff's son. Hey, I better get back to my friend." Stiles stuck out his thumb motioning somewhere behind him, where Scott sat. "He's probably wondering where I went. But this has been really fun. I mean, not that I'm into babysitting."

The man raised his right eyebrow slightly as he looked behind Stiles, then said slowly, "The guy with the phone, right? He's playing angry birds."

Stiles stared at him, trying to think fast about why he would need to get back to Scott, who obviously was content playing on his phone. The man waved his hand in a half gesture good-bye, then said, "Yeah, you probably need to get back to that. Nice seeing you, Stiles."

"Yeah. Bye." He watched the man exit out the door, studying his back. "God, he's built." He started to turn, bumping into an old lady who was giving him an odd look. "Hey. Oh, I'm not gay. That guy was just..." She hurried past him out the door and he mumbled, "Yeah, you don't care."

He made his way back to his old seat, flopping down on it like he had just run a mile. "Dude. Did you see that? He left me with his baby. And that baby was weirdly strong man. Like it had a grip that would make Coach enlist it on the lacrosse team in two seconds flat."

"Maybe it just drinks a lot of milk. Hey, did we know that guy? Wasn't he like a senior when we were freshmen?" Scott kept his eyes fixed on his phone, then cursed under his breath. "Pigs."

"I don't actually know. Said he used to babysit me. ...wow. I watched his kid for like fifteen minutes and yet I didn't get his name. Didn't even think to ask."

"You were in baby shock." Scott snorted. "You should've seen your face, I thought you were going to run when he left you."

"Yeah. Probably." Stiles looked at his hand, the one the kid had rubbed her face on. "She was cute, I probably wouldn't have left her if she cried."


	2. Saved by the Creeper

Skype - Thursday, October 17, 2014

**scott watch star wars:** Hey, you up? 11:58 PM

You better be up. I'm having a crisis. I can't sleep and I'm bored. 11:58 PM

**make me:** yeah i'm up wu? 12:09 AM

**scott watch star wars:** You shithead. What were you doing for ten minutes? 12:10 AM

**make me:** not responding 12:12 AM

not everyone types as fast as u stiles 12:12 AM

**scott watch star wars damn you:** It took you ten minutes to type that? Wow. New record. 12:13 AM

Hey, you know that creepy feeling you get when someone's watching? Do you ever get that? 12:14 AM

**make me:** in economics 12:16 AM

**scott watch star wars damn you:** Gotta love coach. No, I mean like when you're completely alone. I've been getting that vibe all night. It's freaky. 12:18 AM

**make me:** maybe youve got a ghost in your house 12:20 AM

**scott watch star wars damn you:** Ha. Ha. Ha. Yeah. Ghost in my house. Funny. My dad's been staying late at work, apparently someone's been stealing bodies or something at the hospital morgue. I'm probably just lonely. You should come over. 12:24 AM

**make me:** can't u come here? my windows open 12:27 AM

**scott watch star wars damn you:** Why do I have to be the one to go out at like 1 AM and climb into your window? I feel like our relationship is one sided. 12:28 AM

**make me:** i'm not good with height 12:32 AM

trust me i love you don't break up with me 12:33 AM

ur my BFF 12:33 AM

think abt the kids 12:34 AM

**scott watch star wars damn you:** Fine. Be over in like ten. 12:35 AM

But for this you get the kids this weekend. 12:36 AM

**make me:** dammit 12:37 AM

Stiles pushed back his chair, rapping his fingers on the edge of his desk as he looked around for his backpack. Where did he put that again? Oh yeah, by the window. Where he usually flung stuff after coming home from school. He stood up and ambled over not so gracefully in the computer screen light illuminated darkness, and then leaned down to grab the strap to his backpack. He briefly looked out the window to find a shadow nearby the tree outside. At first it didn't register and he stood up and threw the backpack on his shoulder, then turned.

"...wait." He said to himself as he abruptly turned and looked back out the window. No one. He attributed it to his imagination, and shrugged it off. He slipped on his shoes, not bothering with the laces or even putting on socks. "Coat, coat." The talkative boy plucked it off the back of his computer chair and then slipped out of his room, shutting the door behind him. His dad always checked but if he kept it shut he was less likely to think he went somewhere. Sometimes it fooled him. After all, it was a school night.

Stiles rummaged through his backpack front pocket to find his keys to his jeep, then padded down the steps. He opened the front door and closed it tight and locked behind him, and headed out to the driveway where his trusted mechanical steed awaited. Patting the hood, he slid his hand over the jeep and then to his car handle, hopping inside and flinging his backpack next to him on the open passenger seat. "...shit. I forgot my phone." He muttered under his breath. He thought it over for a moment, but decided he was far too lazy to rummage for his house keys just to go up steps and fetch his phone, so he plugged in his car keys and started the vehicle.

Slowly backing out of the driveway, his eyes barely caught a glimpse of the guy he had seen at secretary of state standing on the sidewalk watching him. "What the-" In shock, Stiles floored the jeep by stomping on the gas, and flew out of the back of the driveway.

He stared at where the figure had been, his lights shining on the spot. No one. He kept his eyes trained on the spot as he reached down and locked the doors with the car button. With an over-eager stomp on the gas, he sped down the street, taking the turns even when the light was red. No one was out this late at night anyways.

The jeep sped towards his destination as he took the long back road to Scott's house. Stiles glanced at the time, then back at the road. "Maybe I'm going crazy. Or maybe Scott's right, and there really wasn't a guy with a baby, and I was seeing a ghost. No, I'm not sixth sensing this shit. That's dumb. I'm overreacting." He nearly went through the roof of the car when he heard the sound of police sirens, and he instinctively slowed down, cursing under his breath as one of his father's newest deputies walked up to the side of his jeep.

"Stiles," The deputy said with a frown, looking in his jeep. "Why can't I say I'm not surprised. You know how fast you were going?"

"Ummm, not for sure, I wasn't watching my speedometer. If I had to make a guess, probably...no more than one over the speed limit."

"...we've been over this Stiles. Just because you're the sheriff's son doesn't mean you can get away with speeding around town. I'm going to let you off this time but I'm telling your father." He pocketed his ticket book, and Stiles smiled, giving him a thumbs up.

"Great plan sir. I am completely and sincerely apologetic for my actions. See you later. Give my regards to the family." The deputy shook his head as he returned to his vehicle, and Stiles slowly waited for him to zoom by to start off again.

He reached Scott's house after a few minutes of not-so-cautious driving, slamming on his breaks and parked on the street. "Scott owes me a pepsi," He mumbled under his breath, then looked at Scott's house. Yeah, he had opened his window but the box to the fence was a few feet away instead of by the gate so he could climb it. "Great Scott. You're making me work to get in. Thanks." He jumped out of the jeep, backpack on his back and his hands in the straps as he observed his climbing area. "Great."

Lugging over the crate, he positioned it right by the ledge and fence. He hoisted himself up onto the fence, straddling it for a moment before he pulled himself up onto the ledge of the roof. Scott's head appeared in the window, and he grinned.

"About time. Thought you weren't coming." Stiles flipped him off.

"Yeah, I got pulled over by that deputy my dad hired. He's an asshole. He should just recognize my jeep already and let me do what I want." He started walking over on the roof incline, but because he hadn't tied his shoelaces, one caught underneath his other shoe. All he had time for was to think, 'shit I should've tied that' before he took a backwards tumble off the roof. It was a blur, but he felt something pad his landing and then he was laying on the lawn, sprawled out.

Silence.

Then he saw Scott's mom, Melissa McCall's, light go on in the house from where he laid flat on his back. Scott threw open the front door and looked at where Stiles was on the lawn. "Dude! Are you okay?" He rushed over to where his friend was, and knelt down. Stiles reached up and rubbed his forehead, then grimaced.

"Yeah. Okay. Backpack must've broken my fall." Stiles slowly pushed himself off the ground, and Scott hugged him.

"I thought you were dead, man." The boys were still in a bro-embrace when Scott's mother opened the door and looked out in her nightgown, hands on her hips.

"Stiles, I should have known. Why don't you use the front door? We keep it unlocked, you know that. Are you okay?"

"Yeah, Mrs. McCall. I'm great." He propped himself up. "Peachy."


	3. Ignoring Safety

"You know, on the last day, I'm going to do something." The anger was evident on Stiles' face as they walked down the hallway towards the front doorway of Beacon High. Scott made a passive 'eh?' noise, knowing Stiles didn't need him to comment for him to continue his train of thought.

Stiles continued with the barely-there prompt from Scott. "Mr. Harris shouldn't be able to treat everyone in his class like shit and get away with it, you know? It just takes one student to stand up to him, and by the last day, he can't change all my grades and fail me. I mean, he shouldn't be able to, but he'd probably find a way around it because he's an asshole." He narrowly dodged running into a group of girls and jogged a bit to keep up with Scott, who was better at avoiding running into people. "Maybe I should take it up with the school board. You know what high schools need? A protocol for hiring better teachers. A way to weed out the assholes who shouldn't be teaching. I mean, they're staining the minds of the youth and ruining the future. You'd think that'd be a concern for the school board."

"Stiles, I really don't think they'll care. I mean, Mr. Harris is a dick but we've only got what...three more weeks? A month? Who cares? You won't have to see him after this, we're leaving Beacon Hills."

"I know, but I'm talking about preservation of senior ethics, passing on my legacy..." He barely caught the door as Scott went out, then followed behind him. As they were heading out towards the parking lot, he turned to look at the line of cars picking up students- and a stranger caught his eye. "Hey...isn't that the guy we saw at secretary of state?" Scott stopped and turned, looking at the driver in an old beat up pick-up truck.

"Yeah, dude. I think that is. Must have a sibling here." His friend shrugged it off, but Stiles couldn't shake his underlying curiosity. He didn't follow after Scott, even when he started walking towards the parked jeep. Scott eventually turned and said, "Stiles, c'mon."

"No, just wait a second. I want to see who he picks up." Leaning on a nearby car, he squinted into the sunlight. Scott ambled back over to Stiles, and they both stared at the parked truck. After what seemed like a half an hour and a bunch of honks later, Stiles spotted a slender girl with long brown hair walk out and hop in the truck. "There! Hey, she's in our class...Oh look! It's the baby."

"...yeah. Okay, we've watched who got in the truck, let's head out," Scott said as he reached over and slapped Stiles' shoulder. Stiles froze as he watched the girl take the baby from the driver.

"Whoa. Hey, no." Stiles said, jogging over to where the pick-up was still parked in the half-circle driveway. Scott gave him a blank stare, but followed slowly after, wondering why Stiles was running towards the strange truck. Reaching his destination, he rapped his knuckles on the glass on the passenger's side. "Hey, roll down your window." He stared at the girl, who gave him a questioning look as he stared back at her and her driver. The familiar baby smiled at him from the passenger's lap, and reached out to put her chubby hand on the partially rolled down glass.

"I don't know if you're familiar with car seats, but you have to put her in one. It's a safety thing. If you stopped this death trap with her just sitting on this girl's - your sister's - whoever the hell this person is, her lap - this baby would catapult through the windshield. You're endangering this infant, sir." Stiles had almost forgotten how intimidating the guy they met had been, but his glare was burning through him as he stood his ground outside the vehicle. The younger boy pointed at the baby and said, "Safety first, you know. Babies are precious things."

"Did you just call my baby a thing?" The dark-haired man finally asked, and Stiles opened his mouth, then abruptly shut it.

After a moment he said, "...no. I meant, baby seat. For baby protection. You should really use it."

"She'll be fine," The driver insisted as he started turning the wheel to pull out. Scott instinctively reached out to grab Stiles' shoulder to prevent confrontation, but Stiles was so wrapped in the guy's gull to ignore him that he shook out of Scott's grip and ran out in the street as he started rolling away.

"Hey! Don't ignore me! That's a baby! You're endangering a child! Are you even a parent? Is that baby stolen?!" Stiles started jogging after the truck after it picked up speed. He knew there was a stop sign before he could pull out on the road. Running after him, he grabbed the handle of the passenger's side and tried the door, finding it locked. The teenage girl grinned at him and waved as the truck started turning right, leaving him on the corner. It disappeared down the road.

"You suck at parenting!" Stiles yelled after it futilely, and then took off his backpack and turned to look at Scott, who had chased after him and was a few feet away. "Did you see that? Did you fucking see that? He's endangering babies! That guy is an asshole!"

"Why do you care so much, Stiles? People suck at parenting, it happens. You're not a cop, your dad is." Scott tried to calm his friend down by patting his shoulder, and Stiles' mouth hung open as he stared angrily where the vehicle had disappeared to, watching more cars pass them by.

"I care because that baby- I bonded, Scott. I felt her neglect as she rolled away in that speeding death mobile. Her life was in danger and apparently I was the only one who cared. Did you get his license plate? I'm going to report him for child endangerment."

"Ummm...G...8? ...I don't remember, I was trying to keep you from running into the street." Scott shrugged, and then motioned for Stiles to follow him to the jeep. In defeat, Stiles wandered after his friend, still furious at the previous exchange.

"Douche. Baby endangering douche. I'm going to find out who that guy is and pay him a house visit with my dad. Where is the baby's mother? Her dad obviously is incompetent. Maybe they're both incompetent." When they reached the jeep, Stiles unlocked the door and climbed in, still muttering as Scott knocked on the glass. Stiles fastened his own seat belt as he muttered, "Fucking asshole. You know what really bothers me is he didn't have his seat belt on. They get hit by a semi and bam, all three in the windshield. Dead. That is a fucking tragedy right there."

"Stiles, open the door." Scott knocked on the glass again, and Stiles flicked the button irately. Glaring at the wheel as Scott got in and buckled up, he took a moment to turn the key and swing the car into reverse. They drove for awhile in silence as Stiles fiddled with the music, then the air conditioning, then slammed on his break inches from a stoplight. "...still pissed?" Scott asked, knowing the answer.

"Yeah. You know, seat belts have been saving lives for years and that guy thinks he's all high and mighty and can drive without one on him OR his infant daughter. It sickens me. It really sickens me." Stiles fumed, his grip on the wheel tight. "You know what? He's probably not going to get caught. Tomorrow, I'm going to follow his truck after school. I'm going to follow it and then give him a piece of my mind."

"Stiles, I don't know if you should. I think that guy is part of the Hale family," Scott commented, hand slowly lifting up to grab the 'oh shit' handle over his seat as Stiles made another jarring turn. "I heard from someone in lit that the Hale family is a bunch of cannibals or something. You probably don't want to mess with them."

"I don't care if he's a fucking vampire, Scott, I'm going to tell him to buckle in his possibly demon spawn so she doesn't end up being a baby bug smushed on his windshield from reckless driving. Did you see how his stop at that stop sign was a rolling stop? He doesn't even know how to drive!"

"Ah..." Scott was already starting to give up, and then added, "Fine, we'll follow him tomorrow, but I'm going with you. I don't want you to get killed and thrown in a lake."

"Okay. It's a plan. Tomorrow, I'm following that asshole home. It might turn into house of a thousand corpses but I'm going to follow him and make sure he buckles that poor kid in a certified baby seat."


	4. The Chase

Rushing out of the front doors, Scott trailing behind him, Stiles made a beeline for his parked jeep. He flung his backpack in the back seat, and then buckled in. Before Scott could even buckle himself in, Stiles hit the gas and swung his way into the road, and then pulled over to watch the half circle pick up.

"You know, I think he can see us from here." Scott commented idly, staring over at the pick up truck. Stiles glanced over at Scott, then slowly released the brake so they rolled just in front of a bush that barely even covered a tire. Scott stared at the bush, then back at Stiles. "...I don't think it's big enough."

"We won't get up behind him, we'll give it a few feet, okay? It'll be fine. Oh, ffff-" He pushed Scott back into his seat, watching as the girl hopped in the vehicle and, again, the baby was passed to her. "Oh my god. Look at that. They just passed the baby again. They just passed the damn baby." He waited for the truck to pull out from the stop sign, and watched it speed off. He hit the gas and sent Scott jolting forward as they sped after the car.

"Dude, he's going fifteen over the speed limit," Scott said as Stiles hit the gas to keep up, glaring at the vehicle. When they made a sharp turn in the forest, he cranked the wheel and kept a few feet behind him. The deeper they got into the outskirts of Beacon Hills, the more Scott started to look concerned. "Stiles, this is pretty far out, maybe we should just turn around..."

"Are you kidding me? He's driving recklessly." He kept his eye trained on the back end of the truck, not willing to take his eyes off it for anything. Suddenly the vehicle slowed down and pulled into a driveway, and Stiles eased into the brake, staring at the huge house they were now rolling by. "...wow, that place looks scary." Scott stared out the window, then spotted the guy staring at them from outside his car. The teenage girl was already walking to the house and stepped inside with the baby.

"Oh shit, Stiles - he sees us. Just keep driving." Scott motioned to the pedals, gripping the door handle. "Come on!"

Instead of listening, Stiles turned off the car and threw it into park, and stepped out. "No, I'm going to tell him he's endangering children and should have his child taken away. I'm still pissed." He patted his pocket, and then slipped off the drivers seat and slammed his door behind him. Walking around his car he approached the taller guy and motioned towards his truck.

"Do you have any idea how dangerous it is to drive around with a kid not buckled in a car seat?" The dark-haired guy gave him a peculiar look, but the frown on his face obviously showed how displeased he was. Stiles didn't care. "You were going fifteen over the speed limit for this area. You know what the speed limit is for, right? Because there's deer? You know, nature's road block, the unpredictable chance you hit one and if you're not wearing seat belts, you kill everyone in the car with you?" He reached in his pocket, not breaking eye contact with the other. "I'm writing you a ticket."

"Wait, what? You're not a cop." The guy crossed his arms over his chest, glaring at Stiles.

"I'm not. But I'm the son of the sheriff, and this is a real ticket. Give me your ID." Stiles held out his hand, his lips in a straight line. "I'm serious. I'm so serious right now. Give me your identification card."

"...no." The other said, furrowing his dark eyebrows. "I'm not going to give you my ID. You're going to turn around, get in your jeep, and go back home."

"Okay, you're going to be that way. Then I don't need your ID." He pulled a pen out of his pocket, walked around to the back of the truck and started to scribble down information on the ticket. "To dark haired, grumpy looking guy with licenses plate... for driving 15 over the speed limit in residential area, with child not buckled into car seat..."

"...what are you doing?" The guy walked around, looking at Stiles as he used his truck as a hard surface to write the ticket. "...are you seriously writing me a ticket? It's not a real ticket if you're not a real cop."

"Signed, Sheriff Stilinski." Stiles kept talking out loud, and the guy snorted behind him. He turned to glare at him. "You think this is a joke?"

"No, I think that forged signature is a joke though. You can't be serious." He smirked as he motioned to his truck. "Look, I'll get the seat belts fixed."

Stiles turned back to the ticket and jotted in, "Driving with broken seat belts." He ripped off the top of the ticket, shoving the pink copy in his pocket to put in his dad's bag later. The other copy he shoved at the guy, who looked shocked that he actually had the nerve to make physical contact with him. "There's your copy. Get your wife to watch your kid so when you kill yourself driving you don't take the kid with you, six feet under."

He watched as the man's face went from jovial amusement to muted anger, his dark eyebrows knit together as he glared daggers at Stiles. He didn't say anything, so Stiles glared back, and then turned to his jeep and walked back, hopping in. Scott looked unnerved, and immediately locked the doors once Stiles got back in the vehicle. "Dude, drive. Just drive. You pissed off that guy, what if he has a gun?"

Stiles started the jeep, starting to throw it in reverse and then made a u-turn on the road and started back towards where they came. As they drove by, Stiles glanced at the guy, who was holding up something. He looked in his rear view mirror after driving a ways, then witnessed the guy ripping not only his ticket but the pink one Stiles had shoved in his pocket right in half. The boy reached down and patted his pocket, rummaging in it for a moment before he realized the guy had pilfered it. "Oh my god. How. How did he do that. That was the only ticket I ripped off my dad's pad - shit. What a fucking asshole!" Scott stared at the rear view mirror, then craned his neck to look at the guy still standing there.

"Stiles, just drive. Please. Please just drive." Scott begged, and Stiles finally complied, unnerved by the whole incident. He hit the gas, and sped off of the country road.


	5. Showdown at Hale House

"Stiles, we need to talk."

"Um, one minute dad. Just one minute." Stiles put up his pointer finger as he continued to type with his other hand on his desktop computer. His father, Sheriff Stilinksi, stood there with his hand on the door knob.

After a minute passed of him staring at his son's back as he clicked away on his keyboard, his father's tone became more strict. "Stiles. Now."

"Okay, okay. I'm almost done." Stiles made another few choice clicks and then twirled his chair around, smiling at his father. "What's up dad?"

"You keep going through my bags. Do you need more money for gas?" Sheriff asked, studying Stiles' reaction. Stiles nodded slowly, and then shrugged.

"Yeah, I figured you were busy. Sorry dad."

"You know you're not supposed to go through my files, right? It's a breach of confidentiality if my family rummages through my paperwork. You know that would make me look bad if you start talking about my cases. So I'd appreciate if you needed some cash for gas if you came to me and asked, so I can give it to you."

"Okay dad," Stiles said with a grin, and gave his dad double thumbs up. "Will do. Can I go to Scott's tonight?"

His father hesitated, thinking over his request. "It's a school night..." He muttered, but nodded after a moment and motioned to behind him. "Just make sure to take out the trash before you go and take your phone. And I laid two twenties out on the table for gas. Oh, and if you could pick up some milk after school tomorrow, that'd be great." He patted the wood frame of the door as he turned to walk away. "You have fun, Stiles." Then his father headed to his room, shutting the door behind him.

Stiles texted Scott, "**You won't watch Star Wars but you'll love Space Balls. Trust me. I'll win you over yet. Be over in 10.**" He pocketed his phone and grabbed his jacket, then shoved a change of clothes and his tooth brush and tooth paste in a bag. Snatching the copy of Space Balls he had unearthed from the basement, he shoved that in the bag as well. He almost bounced down the steps towards the front door before he heard his father call from upstairs.

"Trash, Stiles."

"Oh yeah, trash," He repeated, turning towards the kitchen to grab the black trash bag and lugged it out the front door with him. As he approached the street, he opened the blue carton bin to throw the bag in, the street illuminated by nothing but street lamps. Well, street lamps and some sort of vehicle coming down the road. He glanced up to look at it as the bin clamored shut, and he glared at the outline in the darkness. The vehicle was slowing down the closer it got, and it sent chills up his spine as he slowly backed up the driveway towards his jeep, still watching. He swung his backpack and coat in the back of his jeep and shut the door.

As the red car came closer, the window rolled down and Stiles stared at it as someone flicked on the car light. There sat the anti-seat belt man. "Hey, come here." He said, leaning over and motioning for Stiles to come closer.

"Um." Stiles said, glancing at his jeep and then back at the car, which was a little ways away from him yet. "...I think I'm good here, thanks. What's up?"

"No, come here. Just for a second."

"No, no, I'm really fine where I am. I can hear you. You're crystal clear from here."

The guy turned the wheel and put the car right in the driveway, stopping inches from Stiles. Stiles stared down at the car's hood. "Um, yeah."

"Come here." The guy insisted, and Stiles cautiously edged towards the car, looking in.

"So...new car." He commented, looking inside. "Definitely better. Does this one come with seat belts? I see you're not wearing one." The other glared at him, and then pointed to the passenger's side.

"Get in."

Stiles stared at him daftly, trying to figure out what this was. At first he thought, am I too old to get abducted? This guy looked menacing in the daytime from certain angles, but at night he looked as if he could kill a person and get away with it. From every angle. After looking like he seriously gave the other's offer a thought, he stood up straight and said, "You know, I've got somewhere to be, so I think I'm going to pass up on that."

The guy sighed, and then said, "Look in the backseat." He rolled down the back window.

Stiles peered inside the car, and then spotted his tiny friend fast asleep in a beat-up car seat. "Awwww, she's got a car seat! Wait, you didn't fasten it in right." He opened the back door, and then crawled in the seat next to the snoozing child to reach under it, trying to loop the seat belt through the holes correctly. "How does this work? Wait, I think I have-" The car door shut next to him. He immediately tried to open it again, but it had a child protection lock and wouldn't budge. "Oh, come on! Okay- what's your name?" He said as the guy climbed back in the car, shutting the door.

"I don't know if I want to give it to you. You might write me up more fake tickets," The guy commented as he backed out onto the street, then started driving. "We're going to have a little talk."

"Look, it was a whole thirty six hours ago I gave you that ticket. And look at the change you've made! She's secured in her seat - well, sort of...I think this seat actually is broken and you could use a new one that was made in the last decade, but baby steps. We're taking baby steps here..." Stiles glanced at the baby, who looked like she was chewing something in her sleep.

The guy barely stopped at a stop light. "My truck is in at the shop. This is a rental. And her seat I bought new three months ago."

"Three months, holy shit." Stiles looked at it. He'd never seen a car seat in worse condition - there was padding ripped out of the sides and the bottom. In fact, he couldn't even tell what was a hole and what was the pattern of the seat.

As they drove in silence, Stiles looked even more confused, and had started to sweat from his crushing nerves. He fully regretted his previous actions, but he was kind of terrified he was in a car with a baby-wielding potential serial killer, so he was going to stay quiet. But he could have sworn the guy had said they would talk, so as they got deeper into the woods, his hand went to the door handle again as he tried to get out.

"Child lock," The driver said without adding anything else as he heard the click of the door, which was barely audible. Stiles had a bad feeling before, but at the other's almost witchcraft level of knowing what he was doing in the back seat made him indescribably afraid of what was going to happen when the car stopped at whatever destination the guy had planned out.

"Look, I'm sorry, but I really don't think you want to do this, because I seriously - I might be annoying. I'm aware. But killing me will just make her grow up without a father. Do you really want that?"

He watched as the driver's eyebrows perked up with moderate interest, but the guy went back to watching the road without commenting. Now Stiles was sure he was going to die. He realized his phone was still in his pocket, so he pulled it out and typed out '**Help**' in a text to Scott- but the text failed to send because they were in the middle of no where in the outskirts. He glanced up, and then looked around the backseat. There wasn't much he could use to threaten the guy, but maybe if he got out of the car he could run off and find his way back to civilization.

The car came to a sudden stop outside the creepy mansion, which Stiles recognized from when he and Scott were there in the daylight. He watched as the guy got out of the car and opened the side where the baby was, unsnapping the buckle on her seat and lifting her out. The baby limply continued to snooze like a tiny baby shaped rock against her dad. He shut the door and then walked over to Stiles' side and opened the door.

Stiles stared at him, and then said in a slightly shaky tone, "I actually would kind of like a ride back to my house." He swallowed, prepared to stay in the car for his dear life.

"I just want to have a talk. Inside my house." The guy said, nodding. "Come on. She needs to go to bed."

"Well..." It didn't seem right to let his guard down because there was a baby involved, but Stiles felt cornered. He slowly stood up, letting the guy go ahead of him towards the creepy haunted looking mansion. _Maybe_, he thought in a moment of fearful desperation, _I could take the guy's keys. Hell, I don't even know his name. Or the kid's name. Or where I am. I have no cell phone reception. Oh god, I'm a horror movie victim cliche. _

"Look, I get it, you're trying to scare the shit out of me because I pissed you off. You've got me. You've got me so good, I'm about to die from fear. Can I just- can you just drive me back to my house?" Stiles asked, but the guy instead opened the front door and nodded for him to go in. "Are you deaf or just an asshole?" Stiles asked, squinting at the other in disbelief.

"Go in," The other insisted, and Stiles reluctantly stepped inside. He stared at the massive staircase and old wood work in slight awe. The guy stepped inside and locked the door behind him. "Go in the door over there under the steps."

_That's it. That's where he's going to kill me. This guy is going to murder me with a baby in his arms, that's how I'm going to die. _Stiles froze in his spot, staring at the other. "Are you sure? I'm sure everyone is sleeping, and I walk really heavy, so I should probably step back out."

"No, go in." The leather-coat wearing stranger motioned towards the back room. "I'll be in after I put her to bed."

Stiles reached up and rubbed the back of his neck, thinking, _well at least he's not going to kill me with the baby watching._ He sighed and turned towards the back of the room, and entered through the door into a room that was entirely dark.

"Great," He muttered under his breath. "It's dark." He started feeling up the wall nearest to the door, and finally found a switch, which he flipped on. The room lit up, and he found a bunch of old furniture with crocheted blankets thrown over it. There was a large rug on the floor, covering what looked like really beaten up wooden planks. What really caught his eye though was a whole wooden shelf full of pictures, what looked like family images and award ribbons.

"Someone plays an instrument," He said under his breath as he walked over, looking at the pictures. He recognized the guy and the baby when it was younger in one photo, but then noticed a really pretty shorter girl with brown eyes and long brown hair in the picture as well who wasn't familiar. "Must be the mom." With a gentle touch, he picked up one of the picture frames, and knocked a newspaper clipping out on the floor. Nimbly he bent down and plucked it off the floor between his fingers, and then read 'obituary' at the top.

"...oh." He said to himself, putting the picture back and then read the clipping. "Paige Hale, 24, died of unknown causes, leaving behind her husband, Derek Hale, and their infant daughter, Luna Hale." It occurred to him he had told the guy a few days before that his wife should watch the baby when he drove, and also, somewhere in there Stiles vaguely remembered telling him he was going to put himself six feet under. "Wildly inappropriate comments for the situation I wasn't aware of," Stiles muttered under his breath, putting the newspaper clipping back on the shelf, frowning.

He shoved his hands in his pockets as he looked at the rest of the pictures, and read a few of the ribbons. Apparently Paige played cello and received a few ribbons for it. And it looked like the Hale family was extremely happy in pictures with Luna. So many Hales- he didn't know this guy's family was so...big. He jumped when he heard a voice behind him.

"So that's my wife. Glad you could meet her." Derek put a hand on Stiles' shoulder which made him cower a bit, trying to edge away. "She's been, what, six feet in the ground since last February. That's the words you used, right? Six feet under. But yeah, I guess you could say I could leave our daughter with my wife. I mean, I could set her right here next to the shelf and she can entertain herself by chewing on the only memorabilia she has of her mother."

"Look, I'm...sorry, I didn't know."

"It's fine. Well, not really. But I think you get the point. Next time you try hunting someone down to give them an unwarranted ticket, maybe you should consider not following them to their residence and handing them something you stole out of your daddy's work bag like some sort of budding dictator."

"H-...hey. What. No, wait a second here." Stiles began, knowing his heart was beating in his throat from fear the guy was about to pull out a knife and stab him like some sort of backwoods horror movie, but he couldn't stop himself. "You think my comments were unwarranted? You were driving around with your child improperly secured in her seat - or no seat, from the other day - and you think my comments are unwarranted? Look, this is going to sound harsh but she's dead." He pointed at Paige's picture. "Your kid isn't. Act like that means something and buckle her in her goddamn seat, and correctly. And while we're at it, buckle yourself in your goddamn seat too. Now if you're done guilt tripping me, can I go home?"

Derek stared at Stiles icily, his eyes narrowed as he stepped towards Stiles. "You're lucky I don't kill you." He was so close Stiles could feel the other's breath on his skin. Stiles didn't know what to say, so he just stepped back into the wooden shelf, disturbing a few picture frames as they wobbled in place. Derek walked out of the room, and Stiles followed. He watched Derek throw the keys to the teenage girl, and motioned to Stiles.

"He's a licensed driver. Go practice with him and drop him off at his house." He said as he walked up the steps, and the girl looked at Stiles with a grin. Stiles opened his mouth to protest, but leaving this place alive was actually his goal and it seemed like he was going to get it, so he wanted to go with whatever got him out the door fastest. He let the girl go in front of him, accidentally glancing at her ass before he reminded himself he was in unknown territory with what seemed like an aggressive family.

"Um, so you drive," He said as he got in the passenger seat, and the girl got in the drivers side.

"Nope!" She said as she put the key in. "First time I've sat in this side of the car." She started it and threw it in reverse, and took off down the road. Stiles' eyes widened as he gripped the door handle.

"Okay, so...not to distract you, but who are you?" Stiles asked, looking over at the girl. Even though she was cute, her driving was making him sea sick and he felt compelled to keep his eyes on the road.

"Cora." She ran through a four-way stop, and cursed under her breath at a car honking at her. "So I don't know what the hell you said to Derek, but he actually let someone fix his truck. I'm shocked. Even our mom tried getting him to send it in for repairs and he blew her off." She ran another light, and then looked at the residential street signs. "This road? Or the next one?"

"Uh...next one. So why didn't he get it fixed?"

"I...eh. You'll have to figure that out. I don't like talking about things like this with guys I barely know." She stopped on his street, then motioned for him to get out. He looked at her with a frown.

"But my house is a few houses down, I..."

"...so? You have legs." She motioned for him to get out. "Skedaddle. Shoo." He grumbled as he got out of the car and barely had time to shut the door before she zoomed off.

"...she totally drove before...maybe. Definitely should've died tonight." He said out loud to no one but himself as he started off towards his house. "Probably should have died several times."


	6. Dealing with It

Stiles walked right in the front door of the McCall house, and closed it lightly behind him. He then locked the door behind him, a little paranoid after his run in with the Hale house. "Better safe than sorry." He went upstairs in the dark, finding his way from memory to Scott's bedroom. He opened the door and then looked in, finding Scott laying on his bed staring at his phone.

"You've got an addiction," Stiles commented, flopping on the bed next to his friend. Scott moved over and laughed, putting the phone down.

"I can stop when I want." Scott grinned. "So what took you so long? You said ten minutes, and then you show up forty five later. Detour?"

Stiles looked over at Scott, not saying anything for a minute. "I really debated telling my dad, but I'm not sure yet. I mean, I think I'm in danger, but I'm not sure if it's really danger if I'm alive after it happened." Scott lifted himself off the bed, propping himself up on his arms as he looked at Stiles, concerned.

"Dude, what happened?"

Stiles sighed, and pulled himself up as well, sitting on the edge of the bed as he threw his shoes off at the door. "That guy pulled in my driveway and then insisted I get in his car. Stupidly, I thought he just wanted me to look at his baby in the backseat, but he closed the door on me and took me back to that house we went to. Um, apparently his wife is dead? I think he might be a psychopath though, who abducts someone to show them their wife's memorabilia?" Stiles narrowed his eyes as he looked at Scott. "I don't know, maybe he's obsessed with me? But he threatened to kill me, so I'm kind of borderline, do I tell someone, or do I run the next time he comes around, should I invest in pepper spray or karate lessons..."

"Holy shit, Stiles," Scott said as he moved off his bed, handing him his phone. "Call your dad right now, that guy is insane! You were abducted at your house at night!" He shook his phone at Stiles, but Stiles shook his head and pushed it back at Scott.

"I don't know, Scott, I feel sort of sorry for him even though he threatened me. I mean, I know how it is. Death. Whatever. I don't want to report him, he's a single parent and obviously going through something." Stiles shrugged, throwing his bag by the door as well after he got the movie out of it. "I can't prove I was there anyways. And I really, I don't know, if something happened to the guy and the baby was left without both parents I'd feel bad. Maybe I should just let it go."

"Dude, what if he does it again? And comes back? He's obviously dangerous if he threatened to kill you," Scott pulled his phone away, but still looked as if he wanted to go tell his mom, looking over his shoulder. Stiles gave him a knowing glare, not wanting him to tell anyone.

"Scott, just let me deal with it, okay? I have a feeling he won't come back, and this was a one time thing. Like he was pretty pissed about the ticket thing and he just wanted to scare me. It was a prank, that's it." He wasn't so sure it was a prank, but he didn't want Scott to freak out and tell the press. "I'll be fine. It's over. And if he comes around I'll just tell him I don't want anything to do with him. I'll be fine, all right?"

"I guess...but you have to tell me when this stuff happens man, I'm worried," Scott said as he sat next to Stiles, putting an arm around him. "You're my best friend and I don't want anything to happen to you."

"Thanks," Stiles said, grinning. "So does that mean we can watch Space Balls now?"

The other looked at the DVD case, and grinned. "Yeah, let's do it. So is it like about balls in space, or...?"

Stiles patted Scott on the back before he got up to walk over to his PS3. "You're taking it too literally Scott. But this literally will blow your mind, I swear."


	7. Scare in the Locker Room

"Great game, everyone. Except Stilinski. Stilinski, try to suck less at the next one, okay?" Coach slapped Stiles on his back, and Stiles made a silent 'ouch' in Scott's direction. Scott grinned, slamming his locker and throwing his backpack over his left shoulder. He sat on the bench next to Stiles as Stiles tied his shoes. They heard Coach say, "Jackson, excellent as always. Oh jesus, Greenberg! Ever heard of towels? It's been thirty minutes, why are you naked!"

"So you haven't seen that guy in awhile, right?" Scott commented out of the blue, and Stiles glanced at him.

"No, why?" Stiles asked, curious why Scott was bringing up something that happened over a week ago. He hadn't even so much as run into the guy in the grocery store, so he thought the ordeal was over.

Scott patted his thighs as he bit his lower lip lightly, then said, "His sister is really hot. I was wondering if you thought I might have a chance asking her to prom."

Stiles' jaw dropped as he looked disgusted and promptly, "No! No, I mean why? Why would you do that? Did you not see her brother? He's like almost six feet of solid muscle! Do you have a death wish?"

"Well she's in my Spanish class, and I thought it would be cool to go to senior prom with someone. Like, Stiles, really, she's so cute. Her butt-"

"Yeah, knew it was going to be the butt."

"It's not just her butt, Stiles. It's her. She's like, mouthy. It's hot." Scott frowned, then stood up. "So you don't think I have a chance with her?"

"I'm not saying that." Stiles said after a moment, but Scott had taken the hint. "...I might be saying that." Scott sighed with exasperation, then frowned.

"Thanks. Well I think my mom's probably waiting to take me out to eat, so I'm gonna go. See you later Stiles," He said, giving a half wave. Stiles nodded in acknowledgement, tying his other shoelace. He looked up to see Coach walking by.

"Stilinski, you're killing me. You're still here? You're slower than Greenberg. I don't think I have to tell you how sad that is. Here, lock up and throw the keys on my desk before class tomorrow. I've got a date and I'm not letting you screw it up." He tossed a ring of keys at Stiles, and then walked out of the door and Stiles heard it shut.

"Guess I'm the last one here," Stiles muttered, standing up and turning to grab his bag off the locker, rummaging through it. He dug out a power bar and then ripped it open, sticking it in his mouth as he closed the locker, balancing everything delicately. He slammed his locker shut with his elbow, then started off towards the door, confident he had retrieved everything.

"Fff." He said out loud with the power bar in his mouth still, then dropped his bag on a bench a few lockers over, looking inside. "F'own." He turned back with the keys on his wrist to open his locker, grabbing his phone from the top shelf, then shut it again. When he turned, his bag was gone.

"Huh?" He walked over to where he threw his bag, looking under the bench. Obviously it hadn't fallen, but it wasn't there, so it baffled him. He took the power bar out of his mouth, staring with bewilderment at the spot where his bag used to be. "..what the fuck. I put it right here. Greenberg? Are you still here?..Danny, not funny." He said out loud, walking around. "Scott?" He asked after a moment of silence, a nervous feeling growing in the pit of his stomach. "Someone here?"

He turned and fell back in shock at seeing someone in the corner of his eye, hitting the locker. When he realized it was a full length mirror at the end of the lockers, he cursed under his breath as he looked at his fallen power bar. "...the five second rule can't protect food from this floor. It's seen things." He left it where it was, now on the hunt for his bag.

"Okay, whoever's here should know that bag you're holding onto has dirty lacrosse clothes in it. I mean three weeks not washed lacrosse clothes. I don't carry money either." He turned to look around the empty side of the locker room, cursing under his breath. It was dark, he wanted to go home, but his keys were in that damn bag. Maybe the person knew that. Maybe they were car thieves. But that was stupid, why would a teenager try stealing another teenager's ride? It's not like they wouldn't have to drive it to the same destination the next day. He heard something shift around the corner, and he quickly rounded the corner of lockers. "Hey!"

He saw a flash of black jacket, then his bag was sitting on the floor, contents spilled out. Slowly he walked over, approaching the bag cautiously as he bent down to shove everything back in it. He dug to the bottom afterwards, feeling his keys there. "I'm out of here," He said quickly, freaked out enough for one night. He forgot to lock the locker room door in his hurry, throwing the keys in his bag and jogged down the hall at an impressive speed.


	8. Hale Family Mafia

"No, no no no...don't stall on me. No. I refuse to acknowledge this, baby," Stiles kept tapping his hands on the side of the jeep's steering wheel, letting out an irritated whine as he tried to hit the gas. The jeep came to a stop, and the check engine light came on. "I've got school. We are literally twenty feet from my school. Why. Why do you hate me so much right now."

He tried switching the car on and off, and he could hear the engine rear into action again. With a frown, he turned the car around in a nearby driveway and then started off to the car shop. He'd have to get a ride from Tyler, the Beacon Hills High graduate who worked there, back to school and hitch a ride from someone else after the day was done. When he pulled in, he noticed a familiar vehicle sitting in the parking lot.

"Not them..." He groaned loudly, parking in front of the work space lift. Stepping out, he nodded in acknowledgement to Larry. "Hey Larry. Yeah, did the thing again." The technician motioned for him to go to the waiting room.

"Just give me a few minutes, Stiles," He said as he waved him off, and Stiles accepted his orders as he headed to the building. This wasn't an unfamiliar circumstance - his jeep had issues. Walking into the small waiting room, he looked around and spotted a familiar item. Right there, the baby carrier. And in it, familiar feet sticking out the exposed side.

"Awww..." He looked over his shoulder, trying to figure out who was with her. He didn't see anyone in the room, so he ambled over to a seat where he could look at her, but not close enough to touch her. He was surprised to find her wide awake and smiling.

"Eh...hey. Hey baby." He said quietly, waving at her. She giggled and kicked her feet, then tried getting her buckle off as she looked at Stiles, expecting him to play with her. "No...no, don't get any ideas. I'm not here to watch you. I mean, I don't think I'm supposed to be talking to you either. Just act like I'm not here, okay, little girl?"

Stiles looked away, finding the baby's lost expression bothersome. After a few minutes of him staring at the clock, he heard a loud, "**AH**." His eyes darted back to the carrier, and he found the baby staring at him again, this time looking upset.

"...no, no, don't get me wrong. It's not you. It's me. Your father doesn't like me. Don't cry," He attempted coaxing her from afar, motioning for her to lower her tone. Luna's lower lip jutted out, quivering slightly as she stared at Stiles. The boy felt his heart breaking as he watched her, cursing under his breath. "I really, I'd like to give you a big hug. I wish. But it's not going to work out."

That was it. Something about Stiles' tone of discouragement set the baby off. She started shaking and let out a pitiful whimper, green eyes watering.

"No, no don't. Oh god." With a quick jump to his feet, he rushed over to the crying baby. On queue, she reached her tiny chubby arms out to him, still trapped in the carrier. Stiles unbuckled it and lifted her out like she was a bomb, not sure how to hold this thing. How did people make it look so easy? "I...okay, you're free. You're a free baby. Don't cry?"

She looked at him, then looked at the distance between them. A tiny giggle erupted from her lips.

"Oh, you think it's funny I don't know how to hold a baby?" He said with a smile, then slowly brought her in closer, and tried supporting her padded bottom. "That better?" He looked at her, both hands supporting her. She looked up at him and then started feeling his chin, which made his heart melt. Oh, this baby was a manipulative mastermind.

"You're adorable. Look at those crazy dark curls. It's amazing you can see, you little heartbreaker you." He sat down in his chair, putting her upright on his lap. "So what should we do? Can you talk yet? Say 'ball'. Buh. Buh." He pronounced the beginning of the word, which just made her laugh. "No, that's not it, but cute. You goofball." She leaned forwards and rested her head on his chest, and he pet her messy locks with his hand. "Awww, someone's tired." She grunted at the comment, which Stiles grinned at. She was only what, less than two years old and knew she didn't want to nap. For some reason he was reminded of himself, which made him think of his mom. He didn't remember much about his childhood, and when he did, it came back in pieces. It was probably him forgetting the more painful parts to save himself the constant ache of remembering what went bad.

"Just take a small nap, okay? I'm here. I'll rub your back as you fall asleep." He said quietly, starting to rub her back as she put her forehead against his chest, rubbing her face on his shirt. With one thumb in her mouth, she started to doze off. The door opened and Stiles looked up, and it only occurred to him in the moment of how awkward it was to be holding a baby of someone who said they wanted to kill him a week and a half before.

"Um...so this is awkward." Stiles said, still rubbing Luna's back. "...I guess you want your baby back. But in my defense, you just abandoned her."

If looks could kill, Stiles was pretty sure he would've died then. Derek walked over to where Stiles was sitting, staring at his daughter, then looked back up at Stiles. Stiles slowly lifted the sleeping baby off of him and made the trade off. The other grabbed the carrier and started for the door, carrying Luna in one arm. He stopped, and turned to look over his shoulder.

"You shouldn't go into school today." He opened the door by pressing it open, then slipped out.

Stiles sat there, completely confused. At first, he furrowed his eyebrows together and then left his mouth ajar. "Is he some sort of doomsday prophet? Does he get off on that crap? Well fuck him. I'm going to school." He stood up with his backpack, then walked out to talk with Larry. Larry motioned to Tyler, who was sitting out in his blue junker. He climbed in the passenger seat, and then sat there a moment before he turned to Tyler and pointed to the beat up pick up truck. "What do you know about that guy?"

"Derek Hale? His family's pretty influential. Don't think anyone talks much about it, they keep to themselves. He was a senior when I was a sophomore at Beacon Hills High," He started off down the road. "Heard his wife Paige died last February, something about it put Derek Hale under investigation for awhile. Grandmother got custody of the baby and everything. But I haven't seen anyone with that baby more than Derek. Loves his kid. Why?"

"I don't know, I just wondered. I've talked to him a few times, trying to get a feel for who he is. It's kind of amazing I haven't heard more about their family, my dad's the sheriff," Stiles said as he watched the view of the work shop disappear into the rear view mirror.

"Don't tell anyone I said this, but...you don't want to get involved with the Hales." The blond boy gave Stiles a warning look, and then turned to look back at the road. "They're influential. And pretty...weird. Things happen in Beacon Hills that probably shouldn't, and most of them are connected to the Hale family. There's a ton of rumors going around town about them but all you need to know is you don't want to get involved. It's safer that way. Your dad probably knows that and that's why he's not telling you when they're involved in cases. They have enough money to pay people to keep things quiet. Old family money."

"...really?" Stiles couldn't help but be curious, and he leaned on the window. "I did hear this rumor they're cannibals."

"Well," Tyler said, shrugging. Stiles whipped his head in Tyler's direction, shocked.

"No. Really?" He asked, and the other shrugged.

"Possibly. Not saying for sure but let's just say the Hale's are involved in a lot of dead body cases. And not all those dead bodies are complete when they find them."

"How do you know this, man? You're barely older than I am. What's your connection?" Stiles gave Tyler a suspicious look. "I swear, if you are pulling my leg on this Tyler, I'm going to get back at you for it. I swear."

"I'm not shitting you, I know because Larry tells me, and Larry's a family friend of the Hales. He's got a real issue with keeping things on the down low and he's always talking to me about it because I'm the only guy around in the shop most of the time. I'm actually shocked with how shady the Hales are that Larry's not seen as expendable, but I don't know."

"You're acting like they're some sort of mafia of Beacon Hills," Stiles commented idly, leaning back in his seat.

"...well, they kinda are, Stiles. Think about it, you never hear things about them, they're connected to all these strange things that are never published in the news, and people disappear and they trace it back to Hales and no one does anything? It sounds like a mafia situation to me. Just don't tell anyone I told you, okay?" He started to look nervous as he pulled into the circle drive at the high school.

"I won't, oh god I won't. Trust me. I'm not going to tell anyone about this." He got out of the car, giving the other a nod. "See you Tyler. Thanks for the ride."

"Welcome Stilinski. Remember, loose lips sink ships," He grinned and sped off, leaving Stiles staring off towards Beacon Hills High.

Stiles stared at the entry sign for the high school, thinking about what he was just told.

"Wonder what my dad knows."


	9. Lunchroom Disaster

"Can you believe that?" Stiles said, then took a sip of his coke. He had barely touched his lunch. Scott was staring at him, concerned.

"Stiles, I don't think you should contact those people again." Scott put down his burger, then leaned on the table as he looked out the window. "I mean, they sound really dangerous."

"Yeah, but it sounds like my dad is hiding things from me. I can't believe he wouldn't tell me about a mafia in Beacon Hills. This sounds like the biggest secret Beacon Hills has ever had," Stiles said, dipping a fry in his ketchup. "I know I probably shouldn't be interested but...I can't stop thinking about it, you know?"

"If it's true...what if he did kill his wife? Stiles, you could be talking with a serial killer. I don't care if he babysat for you, he's obviously crazy now." His friend shook his head as he reached over and took Stiles' pepsi, taking a chug from it before he put it back. "Thanks."

"Welcome. But shouldn't that be investigated? I mean, if he's a serial killer and he's raising this cute little innocent baby, don't you think someone should get involved?"

"Yeah. A social worker. Not you." Scott said straightforwardly, his expression serious. "Not you, Stiles." He pointed over towards a table nearby, and then mouthed something. Stiles narrowed his eyes.

"Wuh?" Stiles said as he turned around, thinking there was someone standing behind him. Instead he saw Sean Walcott and a couple of his friends staring at him. He turned back to Scott, then pointed to his back. "Is there something on my back? Did Jackson put another kick me sign on me?"

Scott got up and leaned on the table, looking at Stiles' back, then sat back down. "No, there's nothing on you, dude. The way they're looking is really damn creepy." He picked up his burger, then bit into it. "...It's making it hard to eat," He said with a mouthful. Stiles frowned as he turned to look at Sean again, who finally looked away towards his phone.

"Walcott's on the lacrosse team, isn't he? Maybe I should ask him what the hell's on my back. Rude." Stiles mumbled, chomping on a few more fries before he finally looked over his shoulder again. There was Sean staring at him again. He looked back at the table, grabbing his tray and standing. "I'm done. Want to wander outside with me? We can hang out by my jeep."

"Yeah, probably better than hanging out in here. It's weird, Sean's usually keeps to himself, what the hell is up with him?" Scott followed Stiles as he walked over to the trashcan, dumping his food. Scott grabbed his burger and drink, then dumped the rest and followed his friend out the door. Stiles reached in his pocket, digging for his keys. When he found them, he jogged a bit quicker with a coke bottle in one hand and his keys in the other.

"So guess who asked me about math today," Stiles said as he headed towards his jeep, not waiting for Scott to respond. "Lydia Martin. I finally knew something Lydia Martin didn't." He felt a painful feeling in his chest from an unrequited crush he had for the last several years, but he didn't want to tell Scott about it for fear it'd get back to Lydia. He reached his car, starting to turn, when he realized Scott wasn't behind him.

"Scott?" He said out loud, confused. Then he felt something heavy hit the back of his head, and everything went dark.


	10. Unwillingly Drafted for War

"Ow," Stiles mumbled, his sight hazy. His first reaction was to say, "Scott?" But when his surroundings faded into his line of vision, he realized Scott wasn't anywhere near him. Wherever he was, he was cold. He blinked, trying to move his hands, but found his hands tied behind his back and his feet tied to the legs of the chair he was sitting on. "What the...Hey? Where am I?" He asked out loud, but heard nothing but rustling behind him in response. He was facing a door, and saw a cart with medical equipment on it. Determined to figure out where he was, he tried rocking the chair to move it, to see what or who was behind him. After a few tries, he got the chair to turn, and he turned to his side to see what was behind him.

"...oh my god." He said as he viewed rows of hanging bodies on meat hooks. "...oh my god. This is not...this is not good." He looked around for an optional exit, but there weren't any windows.

"Don't worry," A woman said from across the room, walking out from a steel door. It swung shut. He stared at her outfit - a white bloody apron, and yellow gloves.

"I'm...I think it's too late for that." He said, his voice cracking as she got closer. He winced as he tried moving his now sweaty hands, but the ropes were tight. "I...why am I here?"

The woman reached the metal cart, and she spun it ninety degrees so it was even with his chair. Picking up a meat cleaver, she ran her gloved finger over the sharp side, then grabbed a knife sharpening rock and started grinding it against the edge. Stiles swallowed loudly, not bothering to cover up how disturbed he felt by this situation.

"You know why you're here, I'm sure." She smiled jovially, continuing her task of sharpening the edge of the instrument she was holding. "So when did they do it? I find it laughable they let you out before the transformation was complete. When did they introduce you into the pack?" She set the knife sharpening rock down on the metal table, and held up the cleaver. "We like keeping our numbers down in Beacon Hills. The Hales have an issue with that concept. It's not shocking that they're losing the turf war. Trying to recruit teenagers...that's just humorous."

"Turf...oh my god, there is a mafia. There is a mafia and you're cannibals," Stiles said abruptly, shaking his head, "No- you've got it wrong, I didn't...I'm not like, in any mafia, I just...I held a baby, that's it. I just held their baby. I'm not part of any gang war, I swear, I won't say anything about this, I just...just let me go home."

She laughed as she leaned forwards, ruffling his hair. He recoiled in disgust. "I'm sorry Stiles. But you know too much. My Sean has been watching you at high school." She leaned forwards, sniffing his jacket. "Ugh. You reek."

"...of...I mean, I wear deodorant." He gave her an offended look.

"Of dog," She said as she reached down to cut his hand tie, then the ties on his legs as she said, "Don't run. It'll make this so much worse." Stiles froze in place as she yanked off his shoes, then grabbed the arm of his jacket, tugging it off of him. His mind was racing with possibilities as he looked around the room- then saw the rock laying out on the metal table. Without delay, he grabbed it and swung it towards the woman's head, sending her flying to the floor. He took off towards the metal door in his socks, barely looking over his shoulder as a deafening roar erupted from where the woman was. Almost scared out of his skin, he grabbed the cold handle of the door and tried yanking it open, but then spotted a key code pad next to it.

"You've gotta be kidding me," Stiles said in an exasperated tone, slamming his hand against the metal door and looking back. Among the hanging plastic-wrapped bodies, he could see a huge form of something strange looking crawling towards him. The sound of a cell phone going off rang through the room, and the creature scuffled over out of sight, and a low voice could be heard.

"What do you mean the alarm system - David? Damn it!" The phone was thrown at the floor and skidded across the cement. Stiles was walking cautiously against the back of the wall, his breathing shallow and his hands shaking from the cold.

The lights went out, and now he was immersed in the darkness.

"Stiles...you've been so good until now. Come on, I just want to talk." He felt the outline of a shelf, and started walking by it, trying not to make any noise. He could hear the scratching of something across the floor as it moved. He didn't respond to it, whatever it was. Instead, he tried to feel the cold stone indentation, which meant there was another hallway. He quietly shifted around the wall, trying to feel in the darkness where he could go without making a sound. "If it's not me, it'll be someone else, Stiles. Isn't it better to get it over with now? This war isn't going to end today, Stiles. How unfortunate they dragged you into it."

His hand hit another door, and it made a low thumping sound. Cursing, he flung himself against the door and felt out the door knob, barely closing it behind him and locking it as he heard a thud on the other side and a loud screech. He hit the wall and tried feeling out a light switch, which he flicked on immediately. It was a stairwell. "I'm in a basement," He said to himself as he ran up, gripping the railing. He stopped, looking back at the bottom of the steps - there was a crowbar. He padded down the steps again, retrieved it and then started up the stairwell. In his hurry, he hit the cellar door to the outside, then flung it open. Crawling out, he looked around in the darkness. He started off towards the woods, running across the cold ground, trying to get as far away from this house as possible.

When it felt like he couldn't run anymore and civilization wasn't anywhere in sight, he passed out against a tree, breathing heavily. He was covered in sweat and leaves, scratches on his arms from running past branches recklessly. Sitting down on the ground, he held the crowbar against his chest protectively as he listened to the chirping of crickets. "Fuck." He said out loud, putting a hand over his face and trying to bite his lip to keep from crying out of frustration. What the hell was that back there? Glancing around with water building up in his eyes, he made sure he was alone before he breathed deeply, relaxing. It was short-lived, because at that moment he heard a crunch of forest turf nearby, and he tensed up. He brandished the crowbar threateningly as he stood to his feet, and said, "I will stab you I swear to god I will kick your ass! I might look weak but this is a really heavy crowbar! Stay back!" He stumbled in a circle, trying to look in the direction of the sound.

"Calm down, diva," A man emerged from behind a thick tree, smirking as he put up his hands. "Not going to hurt you. Peter Hale. I think you know my nephew. Actually, I know you know my nephew. I'm going to have to ask you to follow me."

"I'm not going anywhere with you," Stiles said as he pointed the crowbar at Peter, using both hands to wield it. The short brown haired man walked up, looking at the crowbar before he reached down and slowly removed it from Stiles' hands with one small tug, which sent Stiles falling forwards. He tossed it aside.

"We can do this all night, or you could just come with me and get some answers. I'm sure you're confused."

Stiles picked himself up off the ground, clenching his teeth together as he stood back up. "I'm not going anywhere with you, are you deaf? I said I'm not going anywhere with you. If you have a phone, I'd gladly use it, but I'm not going anywhere with you. I don't know how many times I have to say that for you to get it through your head."

Peter shrugged, reaching in his pocket and pulled out his phone. He held out to Stiles. Stiles stared at the offered smart phone, and cautiously reached out to take it from the other, but Peter snatched it back and held it in his hand. "If you want to use it, you have to come with me."

Giving him a look of disbelief, Stiles threw his hands in the air and said, "Are you kidding me? I just was abducted- the second time in two weeks, let me remind you, and you want me to go with you willingly? Do you people think I'm stupid? I'm at the top of my class! I'm smart! I'm not going with you!"

"You look cold," Peter commented, ignoring Stiles' display of ego. "I have blankets in my car."

"I don't want your damn blankets. I'm not getting in a car with you. Look, I just want the phone to call my dad." His eyes started to water again and he pointed at the phone, then motioned for Peter to give it to him.

Peter laughed, then said, "What? You think if you cry I'll give you the phone? If I give you the phone, you're going to take it and run." Stiles crossed his arms over his chest, his mouth agape.

"No I won't. You're making unfair judgments of my actions. I would make the call right in front of you and then give the phone back. Honest."

"So I give you my phone, you come with me. You get a minute." Peter walked towards Stiles, then handed him the phone. "I'm counting in my head so you better dial fast."

Stiles stared at Peter, holding the phone in his hand. He turned on his heel and took off into the darkness, jogging as fast as he could. He made it around several trees before he hid behind one, and lifted up the phone. He hit the button to make the screen illuminate, and then stared at the passcode screen.

"Oh, you have to be joking." He swore as he glared at the passcode screen, pressing all 1's, then all 2's. He was about to enter 3's when a hand reached out and grabbed the phone from his hands, and he jumped as he looked at the stranger from earlier.

"Don't lock me out of my phone. By the way, you looked like a runner. And we really don't have time for this." Peter said as he reached over and grabbed Stiles, wrapping his arms around him from behind and keeping his arms pinned against his chest as he struggled. He carried him a ways before Stiles started openly protesting.

"This is just weird. I can walk. I can walk." He insisted, and Peter gave him a resounding,

"Nope." He grimaced as he made his grip tighter. "You picked this when you ran." They reached an old antique-looking car, and Peter let go of Stiles for a split second as he opened the back door, shoved him in, and then shut the door. He went to the trunk and popped it, grabbing three blankets before he tossed it in the backseat with Stiles, right at his face. "Cover yourself up. You're making me cold."

Stiles gave him a dirty glare as he shut the door again, and climbed in the front seat. Reluctantly he started unfolding the blankets and put them over his lap, finally feeling the warmth returning to his legs. Even though it wasn't the middle of winter, it wasn't near the end either.

Peter started the engine and then started off down the road, and they drove a ways before he turned on the radio. Beck's I'm a loser Baby came on, and he turned it up. Stiles looked out the window, staring at the things they passed. Nothing looked familiar, how far out were they? Unless they were going through the woods...which would make sense, if they were going to the Hale house. After the song changed to Headstrong by Trapt, Stiles turned to look at Peter.

"Hey, are we going to Hale house?" He asked, trying to not sound afraid.

Instead of responding, Peter said, "Shhhhh." And went back to listening to the song as he drove. Stiles glared at Peter's headrest, then looked out the window again. He stopped for a moment as a shadow caught his eye- was it a shadow? Something zoomed past a few trees, going faster than the car was going. He leaned forwards and squinted, but it was gone. He looked at the rear-view mirror, finding Peter was looking back at him.

"What was that? Did you see that?" Stiles said, then slid down in his seat when there was no response again. He felt like he was being taken from one dangerous situation to another with no say in the matter. His will to speak was being diminished with every time he was ignored. As Godsmack's I stand alone came on, Peter turned it up again. When they finally pulled up to the Hale house, Stiles stared out at the building in the dark, remembering when Derek took him there just to scare the shit out of him. Peter got out and instead of letting Stiles out, he walked up to the house, his hands buried in his pockets.

"Shitty chauffeur," He said to himself as he looked at the house, wondering if he was supposed to go in. He leaned over to look in the front seat, and found his luck was a bit better than it had been earlier in the day. "He left the keys. He left the fucking keys!" He pushed the blankets off himself as he crawled over the middle of the seat, and then got into the driver's seat. He looked towards the house, and realized Peter was walking back towards the car. Without further hesitation, he wrenched the engine into motion, and hit the gas so hard he had to swerve to avoid a tree. He could hear Peter yelling at him, but he ignored it as he hit the gas and sped off down the street. He sped all the way to Scott's house, and veered into his driveway. He jumped out of the car, walking up to Scott's house and opened the door and shut it and locked it.

"Scott," He said pitifully, his voice strained. "Scott, where are you," He walked up his steps, and heard Scott's door open and saw his friend up at the top of the steps. He rushed down the steps and grabbed Stiles in a hug, rubbing his back as Stiles sobbed.

"Stiles, Stiles, oh my god. I'm here, don't worry. Thank god they found you." They sat down on the steps, Stiles leaned on Scott. "When those masked people picked you up at school..."

"Scott, I've been sucked into a gang," He said, his eyes watering. "And I just stole a car."


	11. The Report

Scott walked into his bedroom, sitting on the bed where Stiles was curled up. "I got you some Tylenol and um, bottle of water and some peanut butter on bread. We're out of jam. Sorry." He set the bottle up against Stiles' leg, and then handed him the bottle of Tylenol. Stiles set up, leaning against the headboard.

"You're going to stay up with me, right?" Stiles asked as he took the bottle from Scott, popping it open and taking out two pills before he recapped the bottle. Scott nodded as he set the plate with the sandwich on the nightstand.

"Yeah, dude. Of course. My mom called your dad and they're going to impound the car you drove here." He unscrewed the water bottle and handed it to Stiles so he could swallow the pills. Stiles nodded, and then started eating the sandwich. Scott watched him for a minute, then got up and looked out the window through the curtains. "I still can't believe they knew where to find you in the woods. What the hell is going on in this town?" Stiles set the other half of the sandwich back on the nightstand, then sunk underneath the covers.

"I don't know. But I get this feeling that guy is probably going to want his car back."

Scott frowned, walking over to the bed and laying on the covers next to Stiles. "He's going to have to go through the sheriff then. I'm sure they're going to leave you alone. Are you sure you don't want to talk about what happened? I mean, your dad is probably going to want the report when he gets here. He said he'll be over as soon as he can, there was something going on. Didn't tell me what it was."

"Figures." Stiles said under his breath. "Doors are locked, right? Windows?"

"Yeah, I double checked. No one is getting in without breaking the glass."

"Cool," Stiles said, narrowing his eyes. "...I'll tell you, but you have to promise you're not going to think I'm crazy. I'm still not sure if I'm crazy."

"Dude, I won't. I won't think you're crazy." Scott comforted Stiles, patting his arm.

"Okay," His friend said, pausing for a moment to let the comforting words linger. Finally he said, "I was in a freezer full of dead bodies. The Walcotts are cannibals. And when I got out, there was this...thing, in the room with us, it was huge, and it had these claws," He looked at Scott, but he was shocked to see Scott wasn't looking at him like he was insane. "...It sounds stupid, doesn't it?"

"No, I mean...you always hear stories about weird stuff out there, I mean, look at Hannibal. But you're going to have to tell your dad, I mean, if there's a group of cannibals here they need to lock them up."

"I don't know if they can lock these guys up, Scott," Stiles said, pulling the quilt under his chin as if he were hiding. "This thing was a monster. Huge. I thought I was going to die. I mean, what if it knows where I live? What if there's more of them? It could be the whole family, Scott. A whole family of monsters."

"They're not going to find you at my house, okay? You know what? You've had a long day. My mom said you didn't have a coma or anything from being knocked out, so maybe you should try getting some sleep." He smiled at Stiles, then got off the bed. "I've got a metal bat, I'll whack someone if they come in, okay?"

"I don't know..." Stiles hesitated, but Scott sat in his computer seat, facing the door. "Fine, but wake me if something goes on, okay?"

"Will do."

* * *

><p>The silence was deafening when he woke up, but the room was still dark. At first, he thought he was at home in his bed, but then he felt the water bottle curled up in his blankets. He sat up, yawning as he looked for Scott in the computer chair. Instead of seeing his friend, he saw no one sitting there. The bat was gone too.<p>

"Oh my god, Scott?" He said as he got up, feeling around for the light switch. As he reached for the light switch, he looked out in the hall. "Scott?"

"Bathroom, just give me a few minutes Stiles. I swear, I just got up. You've been asleep awhile." Stiles felt relieved when he stared at the partially cracked bathroom door, and he relaxed a bit as he stepped back in the room and shut the bedroom door. Right behind the bedroom door, there stood Derek Hale. At first Stiles initial reaction was sheer fear, but Derek grabbed him by the front of the pajamas Scott lent him and pushed him up against the wall, hand over his mouth.

"Listen." Derek said quietly, giving him a stern gaze. "There's a lot you don't know. Report the Walcotts. But leave anything about the Hales out of your story when you tell your dad. Trust me. Now, I'm going to remove my hand from your mouth. If you say so much as a word, I will punch you in the face." He stared at Stiles, who gave him a questioning look as he waited. Derek removed his hand, and Stiles opened his mouth to respond. "No," Derek cut him off before he could begin, then stepped over to the window, opening it and climbing out and disappearing into the darkness.

Stiles heard a flush and the sink running, and he headed out the door and met Scott in the hallway.

"I thought you said you checked all the damn windows, Scott!" Stiles exclaimed, which made Scott become defensive.

"I did! Every single window!"

"Even the ones on second floor?" Stiles said, glaring.

Scott looked contemplative, then licked his lips as he reached up and rubbed his head. "Um...okay, not the second floor ones. But to be fair, I didn't think anyone would try to get in a second story window besides you."

"Well, you're wrong, because while you communed with nature, Derek Hale was standing behind your bedroom door!" Stiles held his head as he cursed, angry. "He told me to leave the Hales out of the report. Fuck, the mechanic was right. It is a mafia. It's a cannibalistic mafia thing. Okay, I have to move out of town. It's the only solution."

"Really? I think you're overreacting, maybe you imagined Derek Hale was in my bedroom-"

"Yeah, there it is. The doubt. You're thinking I'm going crazy, don't you?" Stiles said scathingly, making Scott put up his hands, shaking his head in disagreement.

"No, I mean that you need to calm down Stiles, you're under a lot of stress. Maybe you don't want to report the Hales and you imagined Derek was there because you don't want the baby to get hurt. You know, that baby you're attached to or something." Scott put out his arms, wrapping them around Stiles as the other fumed in confusion. "I'm sorry I had to shit."

"I'm sorry too," Stiles said, but then added, "Not that you had a bowel movement, but because I shouldn't jump to conclusions. I'm sorry Scott...I'm just...I think I'm scared."

"So am I." He rubbed Stiles' back, then backed away. "Want to play video games? Your dad said he'd come by in thirty minutes, that's why I went to the bathroom."

"Yeah, we can do that."

* * *

><p>After twenty minutes of playing Call of Duty, Scott heard a knock on the door. Stiles instinctively reached out and grabbed his arm as he was getting up. "Just double check to make sure it's actually my dad. Take the bat."<p>

"Okay, I will, don't worry buddy," Scott said with a smile, grabbing the bat off the bed. He walked downstairs, and Stiles heard the door swing open.

There was a pause as he heard his father's voice, and he inwardly thanked whatever god was out there for making it him. He listened to their exchange, and then he heard his father's footsteps up the stairs. "Stiles?"

"Dad," Stiles said as he got up, immediately hugging his dad. His dad hugged him extremely tight, just as he did with every hug. "It was fucking terrifying. I wished you were there."

"I'm so sorry Stiles," His dad said apologetically, shaking his head as he took out his pad of paper to write things on. "Give me a detailed description of what happened. I'm pretty sure I know, but I just have to get it from you."

"What do you mean, you know?" Stiles said, frowning. "...you were...there?"

"Well, I just was over at the Walcott house. Everyone's dead. Both sons, mother, father. It was horrible." He said as he shook his head, then looked at the paper. "I found your shoes. They're in my bag downstairs. I'm glad you got out alive."

"Dad...yeah, it was the Walcotts." Stiles stared at his dad as he started writing. "I was kidnapped at school and then I woke up in this freezer that was huge, there were so many dead bodies hanging from meat hooks. Then this lady, or Mrs. Walcott, got this meat cleaver out and was-"

"Wait, wait, Stiles. Stop." His father gave him a peculiar look, and then looked at the wall for a moment before he looked back at Stiles. "Did you just say a freezer full of dead bodies? Meat cleaver? Are you saying the victims are the perpetrators?"

"Yeah, that was what I said. That's what you found right? That's how you found my shoes?"

"No, I found your shoes outside. Outside the house. The bodies were inside. Look, I can ask the city to give me the blueprints to that house, but I'm pretty sure there's no freezer. I think we would have found the door to that."

"Dad, I swear, there's a freezer. I think it's in their basement. It's huge. But...you found bodies, right? The Walcotts? They're dead?"

"Well, the bodies have to be ID'd, but we think they are the Walcotts. They have to have their dental records checked. The bodies were...do I really have to tell you this? Do you want to know?"

"Yes, dad, I have to know. I think I'd like to know about the people who just kidnapped and almost killed me." Stiles looked at his father with a deadpan seriousness on his expression.

"They were burned alive. The entire house is gone, Stiles." Sheriff put his pad of paper away, and Stiles stared at his father.

"It can't be gone. How are you going to prove any of my story is true? And, how did my shoes get outside? She took them off me in that freezer room - oh my god. My story is completely untrue. What about my jacket? Is my jacket there?"

"Your jacket was under your shoes."

Scott had been quiet the entire time, but he moved to pat Stiles on the shoulder. "It's okay, dude."

"It's not okay," Stiles said after a moment, and glared at his dad. "I'm not angry at you, I'm just..."

"Was there more to your story?" His dad asked, tilting his head. "If that's all that happened, Stiles, and the Walcotts are responsible, you're safe. But I think there was probably another person committing the crime, and the Walcotts were caught in whatever went on. And you got pulled into it as an innocent bystander."

Stiles went quiet, looking away. "No, that was it." Scott looked worried, which Sheriff caught onto.

"You positive?"

"Yeah, positive." Stiles shrugged, and then said, "I think I want to stay here tonight dad."

Sheriff nodded, understanding. He always had to run out and he didn't want Stiles to be alone if he had to leave. "I'll ask your mother if I can sleep on your couch tonight, Scott. But I feel safer with you here too, Stiles. Maybe you should stay here a few days." He turned, walking out of the room a ways before he said, "Stiles. I'm really happy you're safe."

Stiles stared at his father, forcing a smile. He wanted to tell him there was something more, but somehow he thought if the Walcotts were dead and the Hales still alive, he'd have to deal with the Hales again and he'd rather it not be strained. Well, more strained than getting their car impounded.

"I'm glad I'm safe too, dad. Did you impound the car already?"

"Yep. It's off the driveway. Deputy came by and took it." He walked off down the hallway, and Stiles could hear him murmuring something to Mrs. McCall. Stiles turned to Scott, then reached out his arms to give him an unexpected hug.

"Please tell me I'm not going to regret not telling him," He muttered to Scott, and Scott shook his head, hugging Stiles to him tight.

"I'm gonna hope not, dude. But whatever's going on, I'm staying by you every day, all day now. They'll have to deal with me too."


	12. Worst Day Off Ever

"So my mom said we could skip today if you want. Said your dad would sign a pass for you being sick." He nudged Stiles as they sat eating cereal, and Stiles grinned.

"Yeah, I just have to almost die to get a way out of school." He crunched on his cereal, chewing as he waved his spoon at Scott. "I'll take you up on that. I plan to saying fuck all to today and just putting my feet up. We have cable, we have internet. What more do we need?"

"Hell yeah! Let's do it. Oh, man, let's order pizza. Like right now." Scott got out his phone, opening the app for pizza ordering. Stiles slammed his palms on the table.

"Large stuffed crust sauce pepperoni and sausage extra cheese feta mushrooms olives and banana peppers," He breathed, and Scott laughed.

"Check, check, check, check, check, check, check, and check. No banana peppers man, I just, I'm not feeling them right now." He put his phone on the table so they could see the delivery process and where their order was at. Stiles danced a little in his seat as he pushed his chair out, walking to the sink.

"You know I think the last time I tried getting a day off I actually had strep and he wouldn't let me stay home," Stiles shook his head as he washed his dish and put it in the dish rack. "My dad's never this lenient. I mean, yeah, I almost died, but he must really be worried about me if he told me to skip school. Hey, is my jeep okay?"

"Yeah, I think your dad drove it home yesterday from the high school." Scott said as he walked over to the sink and threw his dish in. Stiles' mouth fell agape as he motioned to the dirty dish.

"Dude."

"Dude, what? It's in the sink!" Scott pointed at the dish. "I put it where it should be!"

"You didn't even rinse it out? Dude. Your mother. Your poor mother." Scott nudged Stiles out of the way, grinning as he ran water over it and put it in the dish rack. He raised his eyebrows as he motioned at its new location.

"Is it good enough now?"

Stiles grinned, then said, "I made you clean." Scott shoved him playfully, then looked over at his phone. "Steve put our pizza in the oven five minutes ago."

"Way to go Steve! Hey, let's go pick out some shows. Maybe they have some sort of marathon on that we can watch a whole day of Archer or something." Stiles walked into the living room, flopping on the couch and grabbing the remote to turn on the television. After surfing a bit, he heard a knock on the door. "Scott, pizza. Oooooooo, I remember this show. Billy and Mandy. Cartoon day, Scott. But I'm seriously thinking about going back to SciFi, they had Stargate Atlantis on."

"My vote for cartoons. One sec." Scott got off the arm of the chair, walking over to the front door. He opened it, and said "Hello," but that was it. Stiles kept surfing for a moment, then stopped.

"Did they forget a topping?" Stiles said loudly, forgetting all about their problems in the gleeful moment of day off and pizza. He narrowed his eyes suspiciously as he got up and looked down the hallway. Before he could get a good view of the door, Peter Hale was in his face.

"Okay, I'm not going to kill you but I am so close." Peter said with venom in his voice, grabbing Stiles' by his shirt and throwing him up against the wall, pinning him. He looked frantic at the other, trying to pry his monster grip off his shirt. "Where is my car?"

"Peter," A woman's voice called from down the hallway, and Peter put up his other hand, looking calmly at Stiles.

"Talia, let him speak. This is important."

Stiles looked confused but he blurted out, "Impounded. Police...sorry?" Peter let go, letting Stiles fall on the floor on his ass.

"Really. This guy. Are you sure we can't get rid of him? I'm pretty sure that would solve this whole thing," Peter walked around the corner and Stiles leaned to the side, spotting Scott sitting on the floor with duct tape over his mouth, Derek tying his hands behind his back with a zip tie.

"Scott- hey!" Stiles insisted, and looked up at a tall woman with dark hair. She looked a lot like Derek, only...a bit ethereal. The woman leaned down and offered Stiles her hand. He took it, but didn't expect her to help him up and then grab his wrist with a tight grip. "Wait, come on. Can we talk here about this? I get this underlying feeling you're going to take me somewhere again. It's only me and Scott here, I swear. There'll be pizza."

Derek looked up at Stiles and then said, "No, we have to go back to the Hale house." The woman pulled Stiles towards the door, and pushed him out of the doorway and down the steps. The others followed him down the steps. Stiles watched the pizza guy pull up, and Peter walked around the car to greet the man, handing him a twenty and taking the pizza.

"Dude," Stiles said as the car drove away, and Peter opened the pizza and took out a slice as he walked towards the car. "You just stole our pizza."

"I paid for it. It's my pizza. You have a real issue with ownership, don't you? Car thief." Peter said as Talia put Stiles in the back seat of the red car. Peter got in on the other back seat, Derek in the passenger and Talia driving. Stiles tried the door handle, but it had child lock.

"Did that last time, too," Derek said to Talia as if it were casual conversation. Stiles put his hand over his mouth, rolling his eyes as he sunk in the seat. The pizza smelled so good, but Peter was glaring at him and kept it on his lap, eating it in front of him.

"So, your father is Sheriff Stilinski, Stiles?" Talia asked from behind the wheel, looking at him in the rear-view mirror.

"Yeah." He said with a miserable tone, his forehead against the window. "I didn't report you guys. Can I go back now."

"Unfortunately, you can't," Talia said, but added quickly, "I think you're a lot safer here with us for the time being. Trust me. It'll make sense later."

"You're a Beacon Hills mafia who are also cannibals warring with other Beacon Hills gangs trying to be cannibals."

The other three in the car started laughing, and Peter almost choked on a piece of pizza.

"I haven't heard that one before," Talia commented, smiling. "We're not cannibals."

"...and the mafia part?" Stiles asked, narrowing his eyes.

"We're a-" Derek started, but Talia interrupted him.

"We'll leave it at mafia." She turned into the driveway of Hale house. Peter was still laughing as he took the box in one hand and got out of the car.

"Cannibal mafia," He muttered as he walked towards the house. "Priceless."

"Come inside," Talia looked at Stiles from outside the car. He wanted to take it as a request, but it sounded more like an order. He got out of the car, his feet cold on the ground. Derek stared at him from the other side of the car, and then turned to walk inside.

"I want to know why you can't just leave me alone," He said to Talia as he followed her, and she gave him a glance, one that he wasn't sure how to interpret. It was stern, but also threatening, like he shouldn't step on her hospitality that she offered while she kidnapped him. "Look, I get it, the Hales are some sort of rich connected all-ruling presence in Beacon Hills. I get it. I won't tell anyone. I didn't even tell my dad."

As they stepped inside, Derek looked at Stiles and then said, "You told your friend Scott."

"Wh-okay, that's just an invasion on my privacy. How did you know that? Are you wire tapping our phones?" He glared as they pointed him to the back room again, seating him on one of the couches. An old woman walked into the room with the baby and handed her to Derek, who smiled at her as Luna felt his chin. Stiles stared at the two before Talia spoke again, sitting in a chair nearby him.

"The important thing is keeping you safe. I understand your worry and your fear." She leaned forwards, putting a hand on Stiles' knee. "But look. We need to be forward with you without putting you in danger. All you must know is there's forces here in Beacon Hills, and you are part of them now. And since you're one of us, you have to...be one of us."

"One of you? I don't want to be one of you. I'm going to college in a few months. I'm leaving."

"You can leave then, but until then, we need to protect you. There's things happening here that are dangerous for...you. For all of us."

"Look, I'm happy with your offer. It's very kind to want to protect me. But it's also very infuriating to end up abducted in the middle of the day so that guy over there can eat my damn pizza. I'm tired of this. I'm tired of all of this. I hate to give you an ultimatum, but I'm going to tell my dad if you don't take me back to my friend's house right now."

The baby had gone quiet, staring at Stiles as his tone changed from passive to aggressive. In fact, all of the Hales were looking at him. Peter had walked back in from the other room, pizza box gone.

"You heard him, Talia. He wants to go back home. We should put him back there. See how he handles it when the next family tries to kill him in their basement." Peter smiled at Stiles, giving him a not-so-reassuring nod. "And when you find out what happens in this town, if it doesn't kill you, maybe you'll be back. Without an arm or some other appendage, but you'll be back."

"Don't scare him, Peter," Talia cautioned, but Stiles stared at the them, feeling cornered.

"How did you know what happened?" He questioned, and watched as Derek walked over to him and put the baby in his lap. His arms went out to support her, but he looked baffled at the sudden child in his lap. Derek motioned for everyone to follow him in the next room.

Stiles waited until they were gone before he looked at Luna, smiling softly. "Hey." She smiled back, patting his face. "Yeah. Your family is full of possible murderers, but you sure are cute." She didn't understand what he was saying, so her expression stayed pleasant as she reached forwards and played with the buttons on his flannel pajama top. He pet her head, then sighed. He could leave, but getting another one of their cars impounded, he'd probably end up here again.

Derek walked into the room again, and sat on the couch next to Stiles.

"Look, we're really trying to help. I can't tell you what's going on, you don't want to know, trust me. But I just need your permission to keep you safe. You'll leave Beacon Hills in a few months, everyone's happy and alive. You don't have to do anything but keep quiet about what goes on." Stiles stared at Luna, who was crawling to the side to get something off the couch.

"I don't have to do anything?" He asked, looking at Derek. "Abductions will stop?"

"Abductions stop. But you have to promise, no matter how strange the things are that are happening, you're not going to place the Hales at any crime scenes."

Stiles pursed his lips as he watched Luna pull a crafted wolf doll out of what seemed to be scrap material out of the couch, wiggling it up and down. Wait a minute. '

"That's my shirt," He said, looking at the doll. "That's my batman shirt. There's the stain I got on it washing it with bleach! It's been missing since that day in the locker room...what the..."

"Look, this is one of those things. Don't blow it out of proportion."

"You!" He said accusingly, moving the baby from his lap to Derek's, then got up and said, "Don't follow me. Don't follow me, don't come around me, don't go near my family or friends. I don't want to see any of you anywhere near me. You all are incredibly...**creepy**! Who the hell takes someones shirt and makes a doll for their kid out of it? What's wrong with you people?" He threw his hands in the air, and then turned on his heel and started out the door, barefoot and on the dirt path.

Derek eventually caught up with him, without the baby. "Look, it seems wrong, but trust me. It's nothing."

"Oh, yeah. You know what's nothing? When you accidentally drop a glass loading the dishwasher. That's nothing. When you hit a bug driving on the expressway. That's nothing. You know what's a creepy something? When you steal someone's worn undershirt to make a doll out of it for your baby." He kept walking, wincing when he hit a rock.

"Let me drive you back to your friend's house. It's stupid to walk barefoot out here."

"It may be stupid, but getting into a car with a psychopath probably is even stupider, so I'm going to take my chances with getting tetanus and various infections, thank you." He stumbled for a moment after hitting a particularly sharp rock, but kept walking. Derek kept walking next to him, putting his hands in his pockets. Neither said anything for awhile, even when Stiles limped from hitting sharp objects on the bottom of his foot. When he reached a fork in the road, and pavement, he paused, and then looked at Derek. Derek shrugged, giving him an oblivious look.

"I don't know. I'm just a psychopath."

"Come on," Stiles said, glaring. "I really hate you all. I have never hated anything more than you and your family. I was having a good senior year and this is probably the worst year of my life now." He started down the right side, and Derek followed silently. "If you're not going to help, go away. You're creepy."

"Says the guy who steals cars."

"I didn't steal the car. I got away from you psychopaths in the only option I had. And let me tell you, I would do it again if I had a chance."

Derek got out his phone, and then started tapping away on it. Stiles kept limping, then looked over at Derek, using his phone like he was at a Starbucks.

"So you're not going to let me call someone to pick me up, are you?"

"Nope." He said as he used his thumb to send a text, and then looked over at Stiles. "Why?"

Stiles stopped, staring at him. "Then why are you following me." Suddenly he thought, oh god - he's walking me away from the Hale house to kill me. Maybe it was a mistake to leave. His heart raced as he stepped back, and Derek frowned.

"I'm not going to kill you." He said, and then shoved his hands back in his pockets.

"...how did you know what I was thinking?" Stiles squinted his eyes suspiciously at Derek. "...are you psychic?"

"No." He said, then looked over his shoulder. "Peter's coming with the car." At that moment, the car emerged from the trees, then stopped inches from them. Peter got out and walked over to Stiles, and held the keys out to him.

"...what're you doing?" Stiles said, looking at the keys.

"Wow, he's actually thinking about taking the keys. I thought he just innately stole cars at first opportunity." Peter raised his eyebrows, wiggling the keys. "You're driving yourself. Because you have trust issues and we're babying you."

Stiles glared at Peter, then took the keys and walked around to the driver's side. He climbed in and started up the car, and Derek and Peter climbed in the back.

He drove a ways before Peter leaned over and said, "Turn on the radio."

Stiles looked down at the radio, then hit the on button. Nicki Minaj's Anaconda started playing. Derek groaned. "Am I going the right way?"

"Yeah, but you should really change the station. I feel my ears bleeding." Peter commented, smacking Stiles' shoulder. "Come on."

Stiles hit the button to go up a station, and Britney Spear's Work Bitch came on. He heard Derek groan again and mutter, "Turn it off."

"Hit it again."

"Look, I'm not surfing the radio while I'm driving. I'm already driving barefoot and I'm pretty sure I have glass on my right foot so get off my back," He said hotly, and Peter started poking him.

"Don't." Stiles warned, feeling the jab in his shoulder again. He started speeding, trying to lean forwards so Peter couldn't reach him. For awhile, he thought he had avoided his annoying passenger. Miley Cyrus We Can't Stop came on the radio. Stiles finally started passing houses, and he felt something grabbing his neck through the hole in the head rest. He jumped and slammed on the brake. "What the hell is wrong with you?" He turned and glared at Peter, who motioned to the radio.

"Just turn it off." He said, and Stiles pressed the button.

"You happy?"

"No," Peter said with a smile, and looked out the window. Stiles stomped on the gas, looking in the rear-view mirror at Derek, who was staring back at him seriously. He frowned and looked back at the road, driving in silence back to Scott's. He got out of the car and headed for the front door, not saying a word to his chaperons in the back of the car as he left. He heard the car speed off before he got the door open, and he stepped inside. Scott walked in from the kitchen and hugged him, looking at him and then his feet.

"You're bleeding! Dude, sit down, I'm going to call my mom!"


	13. Nurse Derek

Stiles walked down the grocery aisle, looking at the bags of chips. "Eh, Scott hates those." He muttered as he moved on, then stopped dead in his tracks as he noticed a baby carrier sitting abandoned in the aisle. "...hey, I know that carrier."

He bent down to look inside, seeing Luna fast asleep. He smiled, then stood up and looked around. The aisle was completely empty of any other people, and the lights flickered. "Hey, did someone leave her again?" He called out, though the attempt was futile because no one gave a response. With a frown, he bent down and picked up the carrier, holding it with two arms as he walked towards the registers. The lights continued to flicker, and he was shocked to find every check out station empty - no customers, no employees.

An exasperated sigh left his lips as he turned in a circle, trying to figure out what to do with the baby. That's when he saw a woman standing in the middle of the candy aisle, staring at the shelf. With a hop in his step, he quickly maneuvered over to where she was and said, "Hey, miss? Did you leave this baby here? Is this your baby?"

She looked towards him, smiling sadly as he came closer. "Yes, that's my baby." The lights flickered again and he stopped, staring at the woman.

"Hey...you...you're that Paige girl, aren't you?" He asked, then the lights went out. He was in the darkness, clutching the carrier handle, his heart beating in what felt like his throat. The lights flickered back on, and a huge monstrous hairy creature stood next to her. "No, watch out! That thing's behind you!"

"It's okay Stiles, I'm already dead." She said as the thing stabbed through her back, dark blood dripping down huge yellowing claws protruding from her front. His jaw dropped as he stumbled backwards, still holding the carrier. The creature picked her up off the ground then threw her against the shelf, boxes falling everywhere.

He turned and bolted out of the aisle, holding the carrier to his chest as he tried running for the doors. He flung open the first door, but then he was blocked inside by a woman. At first he didn't recognize her, and then he realized it was his mother - long brown hair, his brown eyes, the familiar dimples on her face. She smiled at him and reached towards him and said, "Don't be afraid, Stiles."

* * *

><p>"<strong>Stilinski!<strong>" He jolted out of his sleep, sitting up at his desk, a pool of drool on his sleeve. He looked up, confused. There stood coach looking at him, a disappointed look on his face. "You're a mess, Stilinski. Go clean yourself up."

"But I can't- Scott's not-" Stiles objected. His brain was foggy on waking up, but he knew he had gone everywhere with Scott for over a week. They even went to the bathroom together. He wiped his mouth on his other sleeve, brushed the pool of drool on his jeans and sat up in his seat. "I'm good coach. I swear."

"Stilinski, you've got another month before finals and you look dead on your feet. I'm telling you to go to the nurses office. Lay on the cot, get some shut eye." He walked towards his desk, grabbing a pink slip and jotted something down on it and returned to Stiles' desk. He slammed it down on the other's desk, but it hit a fleck of drool and washed out his signature a bit. Stiles looked at it, and then back at Coach. Coach motioned. "Well? What are you waiting for? Do you need someone to walk you there?" Jackson snorted from behind Stiles, and Stiles grabbed the slip and got up. He grabbed his backpack and walked towards the door, then shut it behind him. Staring at the pink slip, then the empty hall, he slowly made his way to the nurses office on the other side of the building.

"Nothing's going to happen." He tried saying out loud, his footsteps echoing. His mind briefly drifted back to his dream with Paige and his mother. How long had it been since he looked at a picture of her face? He was actually amazed at the clarity of his mother's expression in his dream, and how much it made his heart ache thinking about her. Even a fleeting reminder was painful. He passed by the chemistry hall, and then rounded the corner towards the art wing. When he reached the nurses office, he walked in, and looked around. She wasn't in.

"Great," He muttered, looking around the dimly lit office. "Thanks coach. I'll get a lot of sleep here. By myself." He felt a little bit like coach had sent him to time out, but he knew coach probably was trying to be nice. Unfortunately his version of nice was not Stiles' version of nice at the moment. In fact, he briefly considered that coach was punishing him for forgetting to give back his keys to the locker room until two classes later, making everyone late for gym as people scouted for the keys. The teen threw his bag on the floor by the cot, which was behind one of the sheet curtains in the back. Sitting down on the creaky bed, he put his face in his hands, resting his elbows on his knees.

He could still hear his mom's voice in his head. 'Don't be afraid', she said. Well, he thought, he wasn't exactly afraid, but wasn't reassured by the absence of the Hales either. The only person who really made him feel better was Scott, who was in class right now in the other side of the building. If he had gotten more sleep, he wouldn't have fallen asleep in class, and coach wouldn't have tried to send him off for a nap. With a sigh, he lowered his hands as he looked at the floor. "Few more weeks. School will be over, I'll pack, I'm going out of state." The words felt less effective at making him feel better than he thought, and he leaned back on the cot. He heard the door to the office open.

His foot hit his book bag, and he realized he had forgotten to take his morning dose of antibiotics. After his walk in the woods, his doctor prescribed them to beat potential infection in the cuts he got on his feet. Leaning over, he grabbed the bag and pulled it to his lap, looking through it. "Hey nurse," He said, "Can I have a bottle of water? Coach sent me in here to sleep but I need water to take my antibiotics." Finally finding the bottle, he grabbed it and set his bag on the floor. When there was no response except water running, he became suspicious, but stayed where he was.

"Nurse? I'm sorry I don't remember your name. What is it?" He asked innocently, and the sink squeaked and the water quit running. That was his only response. His hand started wandering towards the cot, looking for a weapon. The only thing his hand met was an extremely flat pillow, which he grabbed anyways. "Um, nurse? You're pretty quiet today." He said as he started to stand, watching a shadow outline behind the other side of the curtain. He swallowed as he stepped back, holding up the pillow defensively. A hand pulled the curtain back, and there stood Derek with a paper cup of water. Stiles stared at him and then said obstinately, "No. _No_, you leave."

"Stiles, we should talk." Derek stepped inside the curtained area, and he held out the water to the other. Stiles stared at his offer suspiciously, then slowly reached out and gingerly took the cup from the other's hand. Derek motioned to the cot and said, "Sit."

"I'd like to stand, thank you very much," Stiles said, and Derek looked at the pillow he was holding to his chest.

"...were you planning on suffocating me with that?" He asked, grinning.

Stiles threw the pillow on the cot, looking at the other sheepishly as he responded defensively, "It was the only thing close by. Talk."

Derek chuckled as he sat on the chair near the cot, leaning back in it. "Look, we got off on the wrong foot."

"Two wrong feet. I'm still taking antibiotics for that," Stiles interjected, cranking open the bottle and taking out his pill as he glared at Derek. Derek nodded in agreement, then put his hands together to form a steeple as he looked contemplative.

"Yeah. That was your choice though. I offered to drive you." He commented, his eyes narrowing. "Look, I know this is going to sound strange to you but my kid really...likes you."

"That doesn't justify anything you've done, but continue," Stiles said as he swallowed the water, then recapped his pill bottle and shoved it in his bag.

"Look, I can't tell you a lot. But what I can tell you is my kid is really sensitive to smell, and she likes you, so I took your shirt. I figured you wouldn't want to hang around someone with a one year old and if she doesn't smell certain people after awhile, she gets very angry." Derek covered his mouth and then muttered a muffled comment through his hand, "I shouldn't have let you hold her."

Stiles stared at Derek, then rolled his eyes as he said, "So you're telling me your child has some sort of dog like sense of smell and she's attached to me from the few times I've held her." He grabbed his bag off the floor and said, "You're crazy. You and your family are crazy. I don't know why you're stalking me or how you could have possibly developed whatever type of obsession this is you have with me, but I'm ending it here. Don't contact me. Quit stalking me. I'm telling my dad. The next time you decide you're going to visit me here at the place I go to school, you'll be arrested." He passed by the curtain by Derek. Derek stood to his feet and grabbed Stiles by his left arm. Stiles gave him a disgruntled look and said, "Don't touch me! Get off! What's wrong with you?"

Derek shoved him against the closed door, letting go of his arm.

"I'm serious, I will fucking call the cops, you asshole," Stiles seethed through his teeth, and Derek moved closer. Their bodies were almost touching, and Stiles could feel the other's breath against his skin. "Let go of me."

"You talk too much," Derek stated, studying Stiles' face. His green eyes were locked on Stiles' doe brown ones. Stiles scoffed at the comment.

"And you get too damn-" Before he could finish his statement, Derek leaned in and pressed his lips against Stiles'. The bristles of the other's five o'clock shadow grazed his chin as Derek's sharp teeth ran over Stiles' bottom lip. When he pulled away, that unnervingly still look met Stiles' again, Derek's dark eyebrows raised in a questioning way.

"...close." Stiles finished his sentence, then said again, stuttering a bit. "You're, you're too close." Derek stepped back, then shoved Stiles gently from the door and headed out without an explanation. The door fell shut and Stiles was left there, touching his mouth as he tried to recover from the shock of unwanted advances being made. He turned to look at the door, then his hands fell to his sides as he stared at it, his bag falling on the floor.

"...I need Scott." He said out loud, leaning down to pick up his backpack and headed out the door.

* * *

><p>After school, Scott and Stiles ambled their way through the crowded halls to the exit. "So he kissed you? Was it like, with tongue?" Scott asked Stiles, and Stiles faked a disgusted look as he shook his head. Honestly, it wasn't bad, but he just wasn't sure if that was the way he...rolled. "So he's stalking you."<p>

"Yeah, I mean, who wouldn't. I'm hot." Stiles said as he grinned, and Scott shook his head.

"It's not...good. I mean, I'm not homophobic, but I don't think you should even consider that guy. He's like, part of a gang."

"I'm not considering it, Scott," Stiles assured Scott, who gave him a shifty glance.

"You're not?" Stiles stopped, looking at Scott as they approached his jeep. Scott shrugged, not adding anything else to his question.

"Do you think I'm gay? Scott, we've known each other forever. You know I'm undecided." Scott made a pained expression like he was withholding his opinion, accompanied with a distinct groaning noise. Stiles' mouth dropped open. "Scott. Really?"

"Eh, I kinda figured when you didn't stare at anyone like I do that you were, well, gay. Like that time you accidentally grabbed Danny's crotch during a lacrosse game, I didn't mention it."

"That was an accident and you know it, his crotch was in my goddamn way and he was coming too damn fast," Stiles insisted loudly, but lowered his voice after a couple of girls walked by giving them both highly critical glances. "Okay, so I might have had a few gay moments, but I do like girls. Trust me, I like girls. So I'm undecided. But you'd really think I'd consider someone who's stalking me? I mean, you're my best friend."

"That's good to know, because I was kinda scared for a moment you would, and I don't want you ending up dead like the Walcotts," Scott admitted, walking again. Stiles followed in silence until they reached the vehicle.

"I think that was my first kiss," He said with a sense of regret out loud as he opened the door, and Scott groaned, sharing in his disappointment.

"Dude, and it wasn't me." Scott climbed in next to him, and Stiles grinned.

"I know, we should have taken this bromance to the next level quicker." Stiles turned on the jeep, and then looked at Scott. "Maybe I should let the guy down slowly and tell him I'm not interested. Maybe it'll make him stop coming around." The thought kind of saddened him, but he didn't mention it to Scott.

"Yeah. Invite him for coffee at that shop downtown, and then we'll all go. You have his number?"

Stiles shook his head, putting the vehicle in reverse as he looked over his shoulder. "Nope. We'll have to drive by."

Scott nodded his head, pursing his lips for a moment before he commented, "You know, I think maybe the guy's lonely. You said his wife died right? Every time you see him he's with his family. Maybe he just really wants friends outside of his cult."

"Maybe, Scott," Stiles said idly, thinking. "Yeah, maybe."


	14. The Invitation

"Maybe we should just not go by their house." Scott said as Stiles turned onto the road, stopping at a crossroads. "Like maybe we can find a phone book and look up the Hale's number."

"They still make phone books?" Stiles raised his left eyebrow, shaking his head as he looked at his phone. "Left. Um, no, I already looked online. No Hale records. Except for Cora being in sophomore year's drama play. Oh, and something about a Laura, but I think that was a college fundraising drive. Here, hold my phone and tell me the next direction. The sound on it is all messed up so I can't hear Siri."

"Did you drop it again? Come on Siri, we want to hear your sweet robot voice," Scott cooed as he held the phone in his hand. "You have angry birds on here?" He hit the home button and Stiles swore as he motioned at the phone.

"Scott! The directions! Focus, man!"

"You have candy crush!" Scott exclaimed, hitting the app button. "This road looks long, give me one round."

"Scott, I am never trusting you with being the map guy again." Stiles slowed down and reached over, grabbing his phone out of Scott's hands. Scott made a needy whine, then reached in his pocket to get his own phone. He opened up candy crush.

"Stiles, you had more battery life on yours. I think you should give me that phone and use this one for the map," Scott reasoned, and Stiles snorted as he looked at the directions, turning down another road.

"One of these things is more important than the other." He commented, putting down his phone. "Don't use it Scott, we have to get back too. There's a few turns that throw me off. Everything looks the same out here. Probably why they made their home base here. Throw off law enforcement." He spotted the house ahead, and slowed down to a stop. He stared at the building, glaring at it. "Doesn't look like there's anyone home."

Scott put down his phone and glanced at the structure. "So we both going up there?" He unbuckled his seat belt, and Stiles nodded as he did the same. They huddled around each other as they approached the house, and Stiles stopped on the porch. Scott gave him a look, motioning for him to follow before he rapped his knuckles on the door.

When no one responded, Scott looked at Stiles and shrugged. "Maybe no one's home. I mean, we just got off school. They could be out-"

The door swung open, and an older woman with snow white hair in a bun looked at the two of them with a weary gaze. "Yes?"

Stiles opened his mouth, but the woman nodded knowingly and shut the door again before he could utter a syllable. He stared at the wooden door for a moment before he looked at Scott and said, "Rude! What the hell? Did she just shut the door on us?" Scott grinned, trying not to laugh. Stiles glared at him.

"Okay, dude, we just got reversed ding dong ditched. That was funny as hell. Who is that, his grandmother?" Scott nudged Stiles, "Laugh, that was funny dude. Come on, what happened to your sense of humor?"

"Well obviously she's in this family because I think they're all rude as hell. And that was funny, but I'm not laughing right now. I'll laugh later." He grumbled as he walked over to a window, looking in. Scott watched him, still grinning. "Wait, yeah, I see someone else coming." He walked back over to the door, hands on his hips as he waited.

Derek opened the door, looking at Stiles with a far less than eager expression. "What?"

"What? That's all you have to say? After today?" Stiles said, and Scott reached over and put a hand on Stiles' shoulder to calm him.

"Hey, Derek, right?" Scott asked, and Derek nodded, his eyes narrowing as he looked Scott up and down. "We were wondering if you wanted to like, go hang out with us. You know, like a group thing. Coffee somewhere."

"Where?" Derek asked shortly, and Scott looked at Stiles.

"Downtown shop. The one with the cricket on the logo." Stiles watched as Derek leaned on the door frame, arms crossed.

"Hoppy Days? No. Where else."

"You gave that like two seconds of consideration!" Stiles said, then ran his hand through his hair as he said, "I don't know, Starbucks on second street?"

"No. Bad service. Somewhere else."

Stiles' hands clenched as Derek shot down his suggestion before he barely had it out, and Scott could tell the other was tensing up. "Well, hey, we could always go bowling," He suggested, giving Derek a small smile. "Invite your...family? Or just one of them. So we have teams."

Derek stared at Scott for a painfully long minute, then leaned in the door as he yelled, "Peter, bowling?"

"No," Peter's voice came back from somewhere in the house, and Derek looked at Scott again.

"These people, Scott," Stiles said, sighing with exasperation. "Okay, we tried. No coffee, no bowling. Do you people do anything but abduct teenagers or is that your family outing?"

Derek frowned as he said with a sincere look, "But that's so fun. I mean, you keep coming back. We just can't abduct you often enough apparently."

"You people are infuriating." Stiles spat as he threw his hands in the air, then stormed off the porch. Derek grinned as he watched Scott trail after his friend.

"Wait, I'm kidding. I'm just kidding. Jeez," He chuckled, and called after them as they walked away. "Okay, we play pool. Downtown. There's a bar called the Den. Be there Saturday at ten."

"Don't look back at him, it only gives him satisfaction," Stiles said angrily to Scott, and Scott turned and waved to Derek as they headed back to the jeep.

"Okay, ten Saturday. We'll be there!" He yelled back to Derek as he hopped in the car as Stiles fastened his seat belt, glaring at Derek. Derek smirked from the doorway, then shut the door.

"That guy is an asshole." Stiles glared at Scott. "I'm going to beat him at pool. And then I'm going to take the stick and smack him over the head with it repeatedly. I hate that look he has on his face like everyone is an idiot. It's so cocky. He's a cocky asshole."

"Just do the first thing, okay," Scott laughed. "Look, you don't know what they're planning. What's that saying everyone goes on about? Keep your friends' lemons, but throw out your enemies' lemonade?"

"You've got two mushed together there, Scott. It's keep your friends close but your enemies closer, and when life gives you lemons, make lemonade," He started the jeep, sighing, "Yeah, you're right though. Maybe I could even figure out what they're doing and tell my dad, then he can put them all behind bars somehow," As they rolled out onto the road, he turned on his phone and read the directions as he muttered.

"God knows that baby would be better off in a normal household."


	15. All Hale the Pool Kings

"Stiles, I have an idea." Scott reached over and grabbed Stiles' arm as he drove, and Stiles perked his right eyebrow. When his friend looked as if he had been just told the secret of life, he couldn't help but be interested. That and Stiles didn't really want to go to 'The Den', which apparently didn't exist on Google maps. It just had one old webpage with advertisements from 2003 and a single address that had a street name on it neither Scott or Stiles had ever heard of. It was pitch black out, so Stiles had his doubts about them finding this mysterious location.

"You want him to leave you alone right?" Scott lifted his phone and shook it, grinning like an over-eager puppy. "...get it?"

"...you lost me." Stiles said, glancing at his phone as he turned a corner, tapping his fingers on the wheel. Scott pointed at his phone again, and then slapped his knee.

"Dude! I can't believe you're not sharing the same brain wave as me right now. You must be really distracted." He shook his phone between his pointer finger and thumb, then said, "Remember the ringtone war of 2012?"

Stiles looked as if he was thinking really hard, and then said slowly, "...yeah? Sort of?"

"We stole each other's phones whenever we could and changed our ringtones to embarrass the hell out of each other! We hid them in each other's bags and then they'd go off during class. That was probably the best year of my life. Mrs. Jackson confiscated our phones like ten times."

"Oh yeah! We almost drove Coach crazy! Ah, tenth grade," Stiles grinned as he reminisced. "I have to admit, I still think I won."

"You only won because my mom made us sign a treaty," Scott bit his lower lip, crossing his arms over his chest. "It got really dark."

"Hey, you know how much I hate that pedo bear song and you put it on my phone so it went off during a test. You deserved every bad song you got after that." Scott couldn't keep himself from giggling as he leaned against a window. "It started off real innocent. Trololo, heya guy. Then you put pedo bear into it and I was like, bullshit, I'm not holding back now."

"Gunther," Scott objected with the artist's name, "I was in a really crowded restroom when my phone went off. And I couldn't find it in my bag so I skipped peeing and had to hold it all first hour, dude. You know how embarrassing that was? My phone was singing about touching people's ding ding dongs for a solid two minutes. In the _bathroom_."

"I have to admit, that year really inspired me to organize my backpack," Stiles admitted as he gloated in his previous victory. "Remember the song that ended it?"

"Something about manwhore, I remember that. Because that's the song my mom took my phone away at a restaurant and told me if we didn't stop, she'd never take me anywhere again." They both shared a laugh, and Stiles gestured at Scott's phone.

"So what does that have to do with Derek?"

"You can annoy anyone, Stiles. Why not make him want to stay away?"

Stiles contemplated this for a moment, and then realized his true potential. Why wasn't he using this tactic? "That's right," He said, looking at Scott in disbelief. "Why didn't I think of that? I could drive this whole family crazy. I mean, my dad's almost disowned me a few times, I'm sure I can do it to a group of stalkerish strangers. Wait- is that the place?"

They both looked at an old warehouse that looked abandoned. Even the metal was tarnished on the exterior, but the place was huge and made out of brick.

"If that's the place, we're gonna die," Scott commented. He squinted as he looked out the window, grimacing as they stopped in the empty parking lot.

"Well, I'm bringing my jacket. It's cold out and they have boarded up windows." He reached in the back seat, and Scott gave him a skeptical look.

"Are we really going in there? Stiles, that looks like something out of a horror movie." Scott looked terrified at the prospect of entering this creepy place, which made Stiles frown. He didn't want Scott to wimp out because he knew he would too.

"We might as well check it out. That's the location we got. We're going to it. I mean, right over there is a bunch of restaurants, I'm sure if we scream we'll have someone nearby. It's still downtown."

"If you say," Scott said as he got out of the jeep, hopping down.

Stiles hit the lock and then slipped out, and landed on his feet. "Make sure you have your phone. And I brought this pocket knife, just in case they try zip tying us."

"Good idea." Scott stuffed his hands in his green jacket pockets, and then said thoughtfully, "This is probably the least smart thing we've done. Ever."

Stiles nodded and started towards the warehouse, looking around for a door. It looked like it was an old car garage, made of brick and metal. They went around it once, and then came upon a doorway that looked like it descended into some sort of cellar. Stiles looked at Scott, and then back at the door.

"We're going to die." Stiles affirmed Scott's previous statement, then started off around the side of the building again back towards where they parked.

"Hey, Stiles! Wait, look. Someone made a sign on a blackboard. It's right there," He pointed so Stiles could focus on the sign written in chalk - 'Beer Trap' with a bear trap crudely drawn with a bottle of alcohol stuck in it. They slowly made their way towards the door, and Stiles looked at the thick metal door. He glanced at Scott and mouthed 'you open it'. Scott shook his head and bowed towards the door as if he was letting Stiles go first out of politeness. Stiles flipped off Scott, then reached out and opened the door. It creaked open with an eerie wavering sound.

It was almost as dark as it was outside as it was inside. The lights were dim, hanging low over a pool table and few tables. The bar didn't have anyone at it. "Um, this is creepy," Stiles muttered, and Scott gave him a concerned look as they let the door shut behind them. There was a jukebox in the background playing Nine Inch Nails, the Perfect Drug.

"We should probably leave," Stiles said as he looked at Scott. "I have a really bad feeling about this." Scott exchanged a knowing look with Stiles, and then they started to turn.

"Can I help you two?" An overweight but buff man came out from the back room, leaning on the counter. Stiles turned to look at him, and then shook his head promptly.

"Uh, no, we were...waiting. Yeah, waiting. For someone. To play pool. But they're obviously not here, so we're going to just leave."

"The Hales, right?" The man said with a grunt, turning to grab two glasses off the shelf. "You're underage, so I'm getting you sparkling water." Scott hesitated before he headed towards a table, and Stiles gave him an irritated look and mouthed 'we were leaving' and Scott pointed at the guy and mouthed, 'free drinks'. Stiles couldn't believe his friend's need to get something free just to make his time worthwhile. Sometimes it was okay - this was not the moment it was okay. He walked over to the table and leaned over, whispering in Scott's ear.

"Scott, this place looks really seedy, we need to leave like right now. If my dad catches me here he'll ground me so long I'll be going to college when I'm fifty." The bartender glanced over in their direction, but continued filling the glasses. Scott motioned for Stiles to sit.

"Stiles, it's one night. Besides, if we say no to this place, imagine the next location they'll pick." Stiles glared at Scott, but couldn't argue against his reasoning. The next outing would probably be playing marco polo in the graveyard.

"Fine. But ten minutes, and if they're not here, I wanna leave." The bartender set the drinks down on the table loudly, making Stiles jump. He threw down some wrapped straws and then walked back to the back room again without so much as another word. Stiles grabbed the straw, and tore off the top of it, then blew the bottom half at Scott's face. Scott grabbed his straw and tried to do the same, but the butt of the wrapper didn't go off the straw more than halfway. He made a disappointed noise as he pulled it off and bunched it up, tossing it at Stiles' head. Stiles whacked it away moodily, and then looked at his drink. "I bet they stand us up. They make us go somewhere really creepy and then they stand us up. This was your idea by the way, I was perfectly content ignoring all of them. We're probably going to end up in pieces in their basement by the end of tonight."

"We've got a knife. You can take them on," Scott said as he patted his own arm. "I've been lifting more weights in gym, I'm up for a brawl. I promise Stiles, you get hit, I get hit. I'll protect you."

"Yeah, may I remind you that the older guy lifted me with one hand like I was made out of styrofoam. They're freakishly strong." Stiles grumbled under his breath, stabbing his drink with his straw. "They're all on steroids."

"I wonder what their gang name is. You think it's the just 'the Hales'?" Scott whispered, then his eyes got big. "Oh, I got it. They're the leather-jacket gang."

"How about, 'the pricks that are probably not coming because they're a bunch of assholes who need lives other than picking on people half their age'?" Stiles suggested, sipping the drink. Scott shook his head and frowned.

"No, way too long." Scott leaned back in his chair. That was when they heard laughing from the back room, and both of the boys watched as the back room door swung open, and Peter came out.

"I really thought I had that one in the bag. I owe you a twenty Derek." He stepped to the side, letting Derek through. The bartender smiled, leaning on the door.

"Thanks Al. Pay me, Peter." Derek held out his hand, and Peter rolled his eyes as he took out his wallet, handing him a folded twenty.

Stiles stared at them for a moment, then stood up from the table. "Wait, you were back there this entire time?" He asked, then glared at the money Derek was pocketing. "Did you make a bet on us?"

"I was convinced you'd leave in the first five minutes," Peter said with a sweet damning smile, and then added, "Didn't happen. Although I think Al shouldn't have supplied you with drinks. By the way, it's poison."

Scott spat out his drink on the table, and the three guys roared with laughter. Stiles motioned for them to go to the pool table.

"I'm going to beat you at pool and then me and Scott are leaving. Because you guys are assholes. No, wait. I'm not leaving. I'm staying all night. Al, is it? Get me a beer."

"You're underage, no."

Stiles paused, then said, "Al, get me another glass of sparkling water. You people. Teams, me and Scott, you," he pointed at Derek, then gestured at Peter. "And your goon."

"Did you just call me a goon?" Peter raised his eyebrows.

"Yes, I called you a goon." He beckoned them over again, and then picked up a pool stick, grabbing the blue chalk octagon to rub the end. "You're both going down. I hope you like the feeling of losing."

"What, have you watched a youtube video on how to play?" Peter said sarcastically as they picked up their sticks from the wall holder. Derek stared at Stiles for a moment, acknowledging how irritated he was with a small smile. Scott noticed it right away. He walked by Derek, bumping him as he chalked his stick, so the blue chalk got on his hand and his jacket. Derek gave Scott a glare as Scott walked away with an innocent shrug.

"My dad's the Sheriff. Do you know how many hours I played pool after school growing up? There's a pool table in the break room in the station. I'm also getting an A in physics, which makes me a double threat. Go ahead. Start."

Peter gave Stiles an obviously fake scared look as he chuckled, then leaned against the table as he hit the cue ball. The white ball hit the triangle of fifteen, and the balls ricocheted off the sides of the padding. With how much force Peter hit it with, two solid colors, the two and six, went right into pockets. He gestured to a striped ball sitting in front of a corner pocket and said with a gracious tone, "Look, Stiles. I set it up for you."

"I don't need help," Stiles stretched his fingers, and then picked up his stick and hit the cue ball. It hit a striped ball and it sent it to the corner edge of a pocket, hitting the other striped ball inside. Scott grinned, clapping Stiles on the back. Stiles waved him off. "I didn't get the other one in, it's not that good. They're ahead. We're at one, they're at two." He whispered to Scott, and Scott whispered back.

"Dude, it's okay. We'll catch up."

Stiles watched as Derek studied the table, walking around to the other side, then pacing to the other. With one swift movement, he sent the ball flying over a striped ball, hitting a bunch of solids and sending three into pockets of different directions. Scott's mouth fell open as he looked at Stiles, and then back at the table, not sure if he saw that correctly. Derek came up from bending, looking at Stiles' shocked face, and he winked.

Determined to get at least two balls pocketed so they were still in the running, Scott circled the table and hit the cue ball. He wasn't as refined with his pool skills however, and the striped balls simply rolled off and hit the padding, scattering them further apart and pocketing the cue ball. Peter chuckled and it irritated Stiles so much that he knew the other was getting under his skin.

Peter looked at his options, then grabbed the cue ball out of the pocket and held it up. "This is just too easy." He said out loud. He placed the cue ball down, and then did something that Stiles didn't expect - he shot the cue ball by putting the pool stick behind his back, which caused both leftover solid balls to roll into the corner pocket. Fortunately for Stiles, the cue ball fell in too. "Damn."

"Yeah, maybe if you didn't try showing off you wouldn't have pocketed the cue ball." Stiles said with venom in his voice, retrieving the ball out of the pocket. He was fully aware all the Hales needed now was the eight ball in the pocket, and he and Scott had approximately six left. As long as he didn't pocket the cue, he was convinced he could set it up so they had difficulty putting the eight ball in a hole. He finally rested the white ball on the table, and then leaned down and hit it. The curve of his hit was perfect- it sent the ball spinning towards a bunch of striped balls. Three went into the pocket.

"Well, that was easy wasn't it? We've cleared the top for you." Peter said out loud, grinning at Stiles' glare. Derek looked at the assortment, then shot the cue ball right at the padding, which caused it to bounce three times before it hit the eight ball into the pocket, missing all of the leftover stripes. Stiles slammed the stick on the table in shock, and Al yelled from across the room.

"Hey! Don't break the billiard! You scratch it I'll scratch you!" He gave a pointed leer at Stiles, and Stiles took the stick and shelved it.

"Giving up already? No round two?" Peter asked, feigning curiosity. Derek smirked and shook his head, walking over to shelve his stick as well. He patted Stiles on the shoulder.

"Good game." He said reassuringly, and Stiles shook his head as his hand sneakily ran over Derek's pocket, grabbing his smart phone from it as the other went to put his stick up on the rack. He quickly disposed it in his own pocket. "Why don't we just sit around and talk?"

"Good idea. They won't have to suffer losing again," Peter added, and Stiles flipped him off. Amused, Peter pulled out a chair and sat in it, leaning on the table. Scott frowned as he moved to the table.

"It's okay Stiles, we'll get them next time."

"What I don't get is how you managed to know every single one of those moves, and pull them off like mechanically. How can you have that good of hand-eye coordination? It wasn't human." Stiles said as he sat down, giving them both a suspicious look. At his comment, Derek looked a bit unnerved, but he turned to Peter and Peter simply shrugged.

"You're a sore loser." Peter explained halfheartedly.

"I'm not. I lose a lot, and sometimes I'm the reason we lose an entire lacrosse game. I know when people are cheating though, and that- something wasn't right." He lowered his voice. "You're both on steroids, aren't you?"

Peter looked at Derek, and then Derek shook his head no, his eyes narrowed.

"...why would you have to look at him. I feel like you're hiding something from me that's probably vital to why you've pulled me into this whole thing." Stiles stated as he looked at Scott. "Am I reading this wrong?"

"No, they look like they're hiding something. I was actually just sitting here hoping it's not guns." Scott admitted truthfully, frowning.

"See, it wasn't just me. What is it. Why do you keep looking at each other and making suspiciously under-descriptive comments?" Stiles delved into his sudden investigative spirit, and leaned on the table, both hands flat on it. "Speaking of things that are completely confusing, I don't have a dog. Why did Mrs. Walcott tell me I smelled like a dog? I wear men's Dove deodorant, which is a really good antiperspirant but it says _nothing_ on the label of having extract of dog in it. I read it a few days ago, I would know. You know how many words I googled? A lot. Someone's out there looking at my cache going, 'is he trying to make his own deodorant?' Because that's all it is, for at least thirty entries on my history." Stiles leaned back in his seat, watching their expressions change from moderately entertained to slight panic masked by an obvious anger at the sudden inquisition.

Scott leaned over and whispered to Stiles, "Stiles, maybe you shouldn't ask." He looked more confused than anything, since Stiles hadn't mentioned any of this to him.

"No, Scott. They're hiding something. And I'm sick of being paranoid about everything in this town. You know how many strange looks I've gotten since I met him?" He pointed at Derek. "A lot. A lot of strange looks. And I'm pretty sure someone smelled me in an elevator at the mall yesterday. It was not cool."

"Look, can't we leave some things a mystery?" Peter said finally, offering the alternative like it was the best option. "You don't want to get involved. Once you go past the point of no return, we'll have to kill you after we tell you."

"Peter," Derek cautioned, giving him an irate glare.

"I'm just being honest here. The boy just shared some of his hygiene history with us, at least we can be forward with what's going on." The older male looked Stiles in the eyes, his gaze penetrating. "You don't want to know."

Even though in the pit of his stomach, Stiles could feel he was already regretting what he would say next, he still proceeded. With a sincere, straightforward tone he replied, "Yes. Yes, I do want to know."

"We're not going to tell you, Stiles. Some things are meant to be kept secret in a pack." Derek said sternly, but made a bothered sigh as Peter chuckled.

"Brilliant," Peter said as he got up from the table, clearly Derek had said something he didn't want to be said. "We'll be going now. Al, we'll pay you later for the boys. They have somewhere to go."

"No, no we don't, we just got here." Stiles insisted, but Peter put his finger over his own lips, signalling Stiles to shut it. Derek got up and followed Peter out the door, and gave Stiles a look over his shoulder before the door slammed. "Scott, what did he say."

"Um, I wasn't listening that close - something about secrets? Packs?"

"Pack? Like a pack of cigarettes? Or a pack of animals?" Stiles said, brow furrowed as he mused over it. "Let's go, I need my computer." He headed towards the door, not noticing Al staring at him as he left. Scott trailed behind him in the parking lot, almost right on his heels.

"About our plan to annoy him, Stiles..." Scott said, bringing up their previous conversation. "I think you have to master how annoyed they make you first."

"Oh, I'll annoy them." Stiles said as he hopped in the jeep, and then took the stolen phone from his pocket and showed Scott. Scott let out a hoot as he clapped. "And I'm going to figure out what they're hiding at the same time."

"I can't believe you swiped his phone! Dude! Awesome!" Scott looked at the phone. "What if he has a passcode on it?"

"I'll figure it out when I get home. There's a way to get it open I'm sure." He started up the car, and then looked at the sky. "Oh, hey. Look, full moon."

"Looks cool," Scott commented idly after gazing out the front window, then he reached over to take the stolen phone from Stiles to look at it. "Man, he needs a new case. Look how horrible this looks. There's like claw marks in the rubber."

Stiles gave the phone a sideways glance. "If you think that's bad, you should see the baby's carrier. These people don't take care of their stuff." He suddenly realized something and slammed his hand on the wheel as the car rolled along. "I just remembered Al didn't give me my second drink. Son of a..."


	16. Hell Envelops the Hale House

Stiles swapped Scott's hand away as they sat on the couch, his laptop balanced on his lap and his own phone on the armrest. "Scott, we only have like three more tries, I don't want it to lock us out." Scott gave a frustrated groan as he looked at his own phone. They had gone over to Stiles' empty house, and after securing the doors, they had set up camp on the couch.

"I don't know what else we can try! Maybe you should just try resetting the phone?"

"I'm trying to get in without erasing information, Scott! I don't want a new iPhone!" Stiles grabbed his phone and then made his way to his contacts. Scott gazed over, trying to see what the other was doing.

"Who are you calling?" He asked curiously. Stiles held the phone up to his ear.

On the other end, a sleepy Danny Mahealani answered grumpily. "Who is this. It's three AM. Call back later."

"No, no! Danny, it's your friend, Stiles! From lacrosse? We have English together. Look, before you hang up, I just- I remember I heard about you getting in trouble for hacking in middle school, and I just - I need to borrow your knowledge. Just real quick." Stiles exclaimed quickly, and he heard a sigh from the phone.

"Stilinski, it was middle school. I don't do that shit anymore." Stiles put up his hand like it would stop Danny from hanging up as he rushed into his next sentence.

"Look, I know you do Danny, come on. Let's just have a man to man talk about our devious acts, okay? I have a situation here, I really need you to focus. Before you hang up, just answer this - how do you unlock a phone that you, um- forgot the passcode to? Without erasing the data?"

There was a long silence, and Stiles put the phone away from his ear to make sure Danny hadn't hung up on him. When he saw the call time still ticking its way up, he put his head back against the phone. "Danny?"

"You can't. Who's phone is it?"

"My, um, friend. New friend. He just can't remember what his passcode was, it's an old phone, he has pictures of his newborn on there and he doesn't want to lose them." Stiles lied, and there was another pause.

"...did you steal someones phone?"

"No, no! Why would you think that? Come on Danny. I have my own phone, why would I need someone else's. Look, do you have a solution for me or not?"

"I'm hanging up, Stilinski." Danny said groggily, and Stiles gripped his phone.

"No, no! Come on Danny. Look, I'll pay you. I'll pay you twenty bucks. Tomorrow, I'll come in and first thing, twenty in your hand. Just tell me."

"Fifty." Danny said, and Stiles made a face.

"Fifty, really- fine, fifty. How do I do it?"

"What's your 'friend's' history? What's he look like, what's he like. Family." Danny asked, sounding a little more awake. Stiles looked at Scott, and then slowly started.

"Well...probably mid-twenties, daughter who's around one. Deceased wife, unexplained death. Um, leather jacket he wears a lot, broad shoulders, five o'clock shadow and really sharp features, good looking. Green eyes. He's ripped."

"Sounds cute," Danny said after a moment.

"Danny, that's a bit creepy. Let's not have phone sex, okay? Why do you need his history?"

"Have you tried his daughter's birthday? Month and day, or year. Or date of his wedding." Stiles pinned the phone on his shoulder against his ear and then started on Google. He typed for a moment and handed Scott Derek's phone. Pulling up the Hale wedding, he decided to type Paige's name and then Derek's, which brought up a wedding announcement in the paper. Then he put in Luna's name with Paige and Derek, and it brought up a birth announcement.

"You might want to try the kid's birthday first," Danny advised halfheartedly. "If his wife is dead he probably won't want to remember it every time he opens his phone."

"Good idea. Scott, try 0, 6, 1, 8." Stiles said, and Scott tried it. The phone clinked open, and there was a picture of Luna on his main screen. "Hell yeah! Thanks Danny. I'll give you the payment tomorrow."

"You're still a dick for calling this late Stiles." Danny said and then hung up. Stiles put his phone to the side, discarding it for Derek's as the laptop sat on his lap. He opened pictures first, but it was over one hundred pictures of Luna in various moments of her first year.

"Awwww...look at that, her in that cute Halloween outfit! They made her a werewolf! Man, they're good at make up, that looks so real." Stiles said, and Scott leaned over to look at the screen. Stiles continued to scroll, frowning. "...man, there's a few pictures of that. And why is there that weird glare on almost every picture when she looks at the camera? Weird. Okay, baby pictures are great but this isn't helping us. I'm going to open his text messages. Oh, hey, he's gotten a few. Popular guy."

He opened up the text messages, and then scrolled down the names. Ennis, Cora, Laura, Mom. Someone named Gramma and Peter, then another from someone named Alice. "I feel like this is really invasive. Oh, look. We just got another text from a random number. What's that one say?" Stiles touched the message, and then Scott leaned in closer.

"'Get out of your house, you're in danger. Don't respond.'" Stiles stopped, then looked at Scott. "...that's a joke right?" Scott looked concerned as he glanced at Stiles, then back at the message.

"...it says not to respond," Scott said, and then pointed at Peter's number. "...read the other texts."

Stiles scrolled down Ennis' conversation, which sounded a lot like the almost coded conversations Stiles had heard with the family. "Ennis says, 'Your mother should just join us. This truce won't last forever', and Derek responded, 'Don't talk to me'. Ennis sent, 'The only thing she would have to do is kill two of her betas.' What the hell is a beta? A fish? They want her to kill her fish? What kind of messed up guy is this Ennis dude. Must be afraid of fish." Stiles muttered as he opened up Peter and Derek's conversation and scrolled up. "Peter sent, 'You smell like a dork', and Derek responded, 'shut up'. Oh, hey. This was a few days ago." He scrolled down, reading. "...Peter said something about Derek needing to get home and Derek said '4 min'. God, how prolific this guy is. Seriously. Just the length of his texts. Oh, look. This one from this Laura girl, 'Derek, meet Shea', and she has a picture of her and a guy. Wow, he's hot. To which Derek responded with a lofty narrative, 'cool'." Scott snorted as he grinned, and shook his head.

"Dude, we're not finding much here. I mean, I'm still thinking maybe this was a bad idea. What if someone is going to do something to their house?"

"Yeah, that's making me feel uneasy too," Stiles admitted as he put a hand over his mouth, thinking. He reached over and closed his laptop, and then stared at the phone with the threatening text. "I mean, the baby is there. Maybe I should tell my dad. He'll yell at me for stealing someone's property, but if anything happens to that kid..."

"I'll feel responsible," Scott said quietly, giving Stiles a look. "I suggested this whole thing, I don't want something bad to happen to them now." As he said it, something fell in the kitchen. Stiles moved his laptop, nodding to Scott as he put a finger over his mouth. He pocketed the phones and then grabbed the table light next to the couch, unplugging it. Scott got up and grabbed a fire poker from in front of the fireplace. They cautiously approached the kitchen door.

Stiles motioned that he was going to open the door, and Scott put up his hands to stop him. "We don't know if they're carrying a gun," Scott whispered, and then motioned towards the front door. "Maybe...go?"

"It might be my dad, he comes in through the kitchen," Stiles said as he slowly opened the door a crack. When he didn't see anything, he opened it all the way, and the kitchen was empty. He flicked on the light, and walked into the room, observing the area. "No one's here. Look, there's what fell over. That damn banana fell off the fruit bowl." He leaned down to pick up the fruit, and Scott walked in, setting down the iron rod on the counter.

Scott opened the fridge and took out a soda, cracking the top. "This is too stressful man. I think I need a break."

"Wait, I heard something else." Stiles motioned for Scott to freeze as he walked with the lamp towards the living room again. He looked in and saw Derek sitting on the couch. The man looked at Stiles pointedly, clearly not happy with him.

"Phone. Now." He said as he held out his hand, expecting the other to walk over. He gestured at the lamp Stiles was holding. "And if you even think of hitting me in the face with that, I **will** kill you."

"Look, I took your phone for a good reason." Stiles said, and the man's expression didn't change. He motioned for him to walk over.

"Phone. Now."

"No, you're in my house. In my house, I make the rules." Stiles felt Scott's hand on his shoulder, and he moved so Scott could walk in. He had traded his pop can for the iron rod again, and was holding it up defensively.

Derek's expression went from insistently grumpy to fury as he kept his lips in a line. He slowly rose from his chair.

"In my house," Stiles repeated, and then slowly reached in his pocket, "I make the decisions, you can't boss me around. It's my territory." Derek walked closer, his hands balled in fists as he stared down at Stiles. The other felt the anger radiating off the taller man. Stiles was trying to hold his ground but Derek reached out and grabbed the lamp from Stiles' grip, and threw it at a wall. It shattered and fell in a heap to the floor, knocking over a painting. "The phone." He repeated, staring at Stiles.

"In my house," Stiles repeated for the umpteenth time, but his hand was retrieving the phone from his pocket as he said it. He slowly handed it to Derek, his eyes narrowed. "I decided to give this back. Just so you know, it was my choice. I'm not scared of you."

"You're not scared of me," Derek said as he didn't break eye contact, and held up the phone. "You gave me the wrong phone."

"That was because I'm staring you down. I'm not intimidated." Stiles said, reaching in his pocket and breaking the joint stare. He dug out the other from his coat pocket and handed it to him. "My phone."

Derek shoved Stiles' phone into his chest, and then turned to look at his own. He glanced over his messages, and his eyes widened. "Give me your jeep keys."

"What?" Stiles asked, and Derek held out his hand. "No! Didn't you drive here?"

"I ran here," Derek held out his hand and demanded loudly, "Keys, now!"

"Ran? It's like-" Derek smacked him over the head lightly, and Scott pointed the iron rod at Derek.

"Dude, back o-" Derek grabbed the iron rod and threw that at the wall, which embedded itself from the force in the wall. Scott put up his hands instantly. "Stiles, give him your keys!"

"You're both going with me. Keys, now." Stiles rubbed his head as he reached in his other pocket, handing Derek the keys. They both walked out to the jeep. Before Stiles could close the back, Derek had reversed and was speeding down the street, weaving in and out of traffic.

"Careful!" Stiles advised, his hands contorting as he tried not punching Derek for almost rear-ending someone. "This is my only means of transportation! You know how much car repair costs? Oh god, we're driving on the wrong side of the road."

Derek ignored Stiles, veering off into the right lane of traffic. Scott pulled on Stiles' shirt, tugging him back in his seat. "Dude, your seat belt. Put it on. He's going eighty!"

"Can't you- goddamnit, he's ignoring me!" Stiles fell back into his seat and buckled it, staring at Derek. The man in the drivers' seat looked as if he were trembling from rage, so he didn't want to push him further. They sped on the back roads going ninety.

"Stiles..." Scott whispered, and Stiles looked at him. Scott pointed out the window at something. "Is that smoke?"

Stiles stared at the tree lining, and then his brow furrowed. "That's smoke. Derek, there's smoke coming from your house." Derek looked at the rear-view mirror to look at Stiles. Stiles pointed to the gas. "Go faster."

The brakes screeched as Derek stomped on the pedal a few feet from the house. The smoke was billowing out from the kitchen. "Derek, wait," Stiles said as the other threw open the door. The two teens hopped out of the vehicle. Derek was already walking in the house. "Derek! Shit, Scott." He looked at the house, which creaked from the creeping fire. There was yelling coming from the basement. But something else caught Stiles' eye- there was the baby, quiet as could be, sitting on the window seat on the second story of the house.

"He's going to go to the basement," Stiles said, throwing off his jacket. "The baby isn't making any noise. That fire is going to burn that kid alive." He threw his jacket at Scott, who panicked when he realized what Stiles was planning to do.

"Stiles, don't go," Scott said as Stiles walked over to his car, grabbing an old sock from the gym bag in the back and poured a half full bottle of water on it. "Stiles, you're going to choke on that smoke - it's everywhere-"

"Call my dad, Scott," Stiles gave him one last order as he put the drenched sock over his mouth and ran inside.

The fire hadn't reached the main gallery yet, and the stairs were still usable. He rushed up them, and then headed to the side of the house where he had seen the baby. The long hallway was dark - the lights had been cut. The only illumination he had was the room burning above the kitchen. "Luna," He yelled muffled through the wet sock, trying to find his way through the smoke. He ran his hand along the wall, bending so he didn't get a lot of smoke into his system. The haze was so thick he could barely see an inch ahead of him. He felt a doorknob finally, and he threw open the door. It wasn't the right room - no window seat.

"Damnit," He said out loud as he moved a bit quicker down the hall. He felt the next door knob, but he also noted the fire was creeping even faster, eating up the wood floor. He threw open the next door, and saw the tot sitting on the window seat, staring at him. At first, he didn't recognize her - in the window from the ground, she had been far enough away that he didn't see her face. Now that she was in a room that was a little foggy with gray smoke, he could see the abnormal amount of what looked like fur on her face - her hands especially. Fortunately, his instinct to save was stronger than his shock response. He made his way around a four post bed with damaged wood on it, and kicked a squeaky toy out of the way. Grabbing her by her middle, she growled loudly like a dog. "Shhh, baby." He said, thinking the smoke was making his imagination overactive. He moved her to his chest, supporting her with one hand. Her little hands dug into his shirt as he maneuvered through the room, the smoke billowing in from the hall. "Shit." He removed the sock from his mouth and put it over hers. Now without anything to filter the smoke from his mouth, he bolted into the hall and started towards the door.

His breathing became labored as he hit the doorway, and he cleared the hallway. The dizziness set in, but he held the baby fiercely as he made his way out. He didn't even feel the claws digging into his shirt, tearing it as she gripped the other in fear. "We're almost," He breathed, trying to calm her as he made his way down the steps. "The door." He coughed loudly, his eyes watering. Leaning on the banister, he started sliding down the steps, determined to make it to the door. It was so hot he couldn't even think.

"Itsokay," he blurted the words together to her as he got up again, mustering up what energy he had left from his depleted air supply. He gave one last effort of jogging towards the door, making it outside a few feet before the cold air overwhelmed him. Coughing, he fell to his knees and put the baby down on the ground, then fell over. He could hear Scott saying something as he ran up to him.

"Stiles, there's no signal out here, I can't get through. I hear the trucks, I hear them, hang on!"

He tried a failed attempt at motioning to his chest, but he couldn't convey that he couldn't breath. He watched as the blurry stars and branches over him faded to black as he lost consciousness.


	17. Unwanted House Guests

Stiles felt someone jostling his shoulder and heard a distant voice accompanying the motion. He couldn't understand what they were saying at first, but then he tried focusing, and he could make out Scott's voice.

"Wake up dude," Scott said again, and Stiles slowly opened his eyes. He gave Scott a perplexed look, and then looked up at the sky. The first thing his eyes focused on was how bright the moon was tonight.

With a simple smile, Stiles said wearily, "Look, shiny."

"Oh thank god," Scott said as he helped prop Stiles up on himself, hugging him from behind. "I thought you were dead. Stiles, quit scaring the shit out of me. It's not cool." Stiles reached up to pat Scott's hand, trying to comfort him instinctively. He couldn't quite maneuver his limbs with great accuracy yet, and instead he just sat his hand on Scott's.

"Baby," Stiles said, his eyes narrowed as he looked around. He could see figures a few feet away, moving, but they were blurry. He squinted at them. "Scott, where's the baby."

Scott moved to give his friend space as Stiles regained his ability to hold himself up, moving to look over his shoulder at Scott. His vision was slowly returning. "Where's the baby." He demanded, then started to stand, albeit wobbly. "Baby, did someone take the baby?"

"Stiles, they took the baby somewhere. The baby's safe, she's okay. She looked a bit weird but she's okay. That old woman took her." Scott stood up immediately, trying to help Stiles balance. Stiles reached up to hold his head, trying to make the dizziness go away by steadying himself.

"Okay, but the family?" He asked, wincing as he looked at Scott. "The family's okay." Scott looked over towards the figures and then nodded.

"They're sad about the house burning but Stiles, everyone got out. Everyone's alive, don't worry. But the ambulance is going to be awhile, there's a barricade like a tree fell on both the roads here. They got the firetruck over before the trees came down. It's weird, it's a nice night. But yeah, they're fine. Here, let's go sit on that log over there, come on." He helped Stiles limp over to the log, and then sat him down and sat right next to him, rubbing his back. "Look, I thought you were dead, dude. Your face was so damn pale. Then Derek's mom came over and she like, did something, I don't know. Meditated or something over you. You started breathing again." Stiles glanced over at Scott, frowning as he studied his friend's face. Obviously the moment had been extremely traumatic for Scott, because his voice was strained and his eyes looked like he had cried. Stiles attempted a cockeyed smile, then nudged Scott.

"Can't get rid of me, Scott. You're stuck with me." Stiles' eyes wandered towards the house. It obviously sustained a bit of damage, but firefighters were spraying the flames down. The flames were almost completely extinguished. He heard someone come up behind them, and then a hand fell on his shoulder.

"You okay?"

Stiles turned his head as Derek sat next to him on the log, watching the firefighters.

"Fine," Stiles lied, and then pointed at the house. "I'm sorry." Derek gave him a sideways glance, and then looked back at the house.

"I'm not. Everyone's out." He paused before he added, "Even my daughter. Thanks to you."

"It's nothing," Stiles said shortly, but Derek looked back at him, and their eyes connected. In that moment, he felt like he understood how appreciative Derek really was. His eyes darted away quickly, and he looked over to Scott. "Scott, can you give us a moment?"

"...you sure?" Scott questioned, but after Stiles nodded he slowly got up and moved away towards a tree nearby. Stiles looked at Derek again, but this time he frowned.

"I'm not going to pretend that was an accident." He said as he motioned towards the house. "What the hell is going on, Derek. If I'm stuck with you weirdos, I want to know what I'm stuck with. And who I should be avoiding. This type of paranoia might be normal for you people, but it's not for me. I'd like to get back to that normalcy of feeling safe instead of fearing someone's going to do that," He motioned to the house again, "To harm people around me." Derek sighed as he looked at his own hands.

"I'm not allowed to tell you. But my mom can." Derek stood up, and walked off. Stiles stared at him from afar, watching him talk to his mother and then gesture in Stiles direction. Even in the dim house burning light, he could see neither Talia or Peter were pleased with what Derek was saying. Peter gestured at Stiles angrily and looked at Talia, and Talia shook her head at Derek. Cora walked over and then pointed at Stiles as well, and Derek seemed furious as he started talking again.

"Scott," Stiles said loudly, and Scott turned to look at him as he ambled back over to the log. Stiles pointed at the huddled Hales. "Can you hear what they're talking about? My ears are still ringing." Scott squinted and then shook his head.

"Not a word. But Derek looks pissed." Scott observed, then sat down. "Look, they got the fire to go out." He hesitated, and then added, "Are you going to tell me what you talked about?"

"Not much, I asked him to tell me what's going on. Apparently this is some sort of hive-mind situation, and he has to get clearance from his mother to share what's going on," Stiles explained, and then pointed at the Hales. "I think Talia and Peter hate me, and Derek and Cora are telling them I'm okay. I'm not sure how this is going to pan out but look at everyone fighting over me. You save a baby and suddenly you have all this respect, I should have done this years ago."

Scott laughed, but it was cut short as the Hales all looked in unison at Stiles. Stiles bit his lower lip, then looked at Scott. "...they heard me." He could see Peter saying something heatedly again, and he let out a breath of relief. "Okay, they didn't hear me, maybe they were talking about something else." Suddenly Derek moved from the group, and pulled a jingling pair of keys out of his pocket. The teens could see the group wasn't pleased with Derek, and Talia took a few steps after him before stopping in her tracks. He approached Stiles and tossed the keys at him.

"I need a place to stay a few days with Luna," He began, and then looked away. "We don't have a lot of people we can trust right now. Can I stay at your place with her?"

"Well, uh...you'd have to ask my dad. I mean, it's not my house." Stiles stalled, but the look on Derek's face unnerved him. "I'm sure he'd not say no. I mean, I don't know if I'm even going to be there, I'm pretty sure I might need to go to the emergency room tonight."

"Stiles, she's a one year old without a house." Derek said, and then added, "You want her to sleep in a motel with the rest of my family until this place is renovated?" Stiles contemplated it, but he could tell Derek was judging him the longer it took him to respond.

"Fine, I'll tell my dad you're staying for awhile. You know, he's done it before. I think probably around a hundred of people have slept under our roof and I don't even know when they're coming or going. Mostly kids, this is probably the first time a single dad has, but I'm not going to judge you for that." Stiles stood up, and almost fell. Derek reached out and caught him. Scott reached over and picked up Stiles' keys, and then motioned to the car.

"Let's get him to the car. I'll drive, you go get the baby or whatever," Scott walked over and opened the jeep door on the passenger side. Derek held on to Stiles as the other climbed into the vehicle, and then he reached for his seat belt before Stiles could move for it.

Stiles glared, and Derek gave him a questioning look as he reached over his lap and plugged the belt into buckle. "You don't drive without seat belts, I know." He closed the door, smiling to himself as Stiles looked on. Derek disappeared towards one of the cars parked a ways from the house.

Scott got in and buckled himself in, and then put the key in the ignition. He stared at the wheel for a moment, and then let out a great heaving exhale. Stiles looked at Scott, and then at the wheel.

"...you haven't driven since the test have you?" Stiles asked, and Scott responded, "Well..."

"Scott, I can't believe you haven't gone anywhere in a vehicle since the test. Can you handle a night drive?"

"...I'm pretty sure...I mean, you just stay on the road." He said as he started the car, and he put it in drive. "Let's wait for them though, we have to get the baby."

"Well if we're going to get the baby, we have to put the car back into park, because right now you're rolling. Unless you want Derek to have to jump into a moving car with a baby carrier." Stiles said, and pointed at the gears. Scott's hands went up in the air as he swore, and then shifted the car back into park.

"I thought when you start the car you put it in drive," Scott said as he rested his hands on the wheel.

"You do, but you put it in park when you're waiting. Or you put your foot on the brake," Stiles explained, trying to mute his worry in order for Scott to feel more confident driving so they didn't end up in a ditch. He looked out the window and spotted the single dad walking to the car with the baby carrier, and then went down to unlock the doors. The doors clicked and Derek opened the back seat, putting the baby in and then climbed in himself.

"There's a tree down on the way we usually go but you can drive around it in this car." Derek said as Scott put the jeep in drive. The jeep crawled at 5 mph as he inched out of the drive, turning the car. Derek looked at Scott skeptically and then said, "Can you drive?"

"Yes, I have my licenses," Scott said irately, and then started pressing the gas, but still was only going ten as he headed down the path.

Derek was quiet for a bit until he took out his phone, and then said, "My uncle wants to tell you to hurry up. They'd like to get to the motel before the end of next week."

Scott glared at the rear view mirror, and then slammed the gas. The car jerked into motion, and the baby carrier slid. Derek swore out loud as he grabbed the handle.

"Maybe the guy who almost suffocated on smoke should drive," Derek said out loud, glaring at Scott. "You're going too fast!"

"Scott, he's right," Stiles warned, watching Scott easing up on the gas. "Scott, brake. Scott. Scott, brake!" He yelled as he reached over and yanked the wheel to the left. They barely missed the tree in the road, and Scott straightened the wheel out as they rolled on past it, getting back on the road. "Scott!"

"What! I'm fine now, thanks," Scott said as he slowed back down to his twenty mph, and edged along the road. Derek looked at the baby carrier, petting the baby's forehead as he held onto the handle. Stiles smiled slightly at the scene in the mirror, and he looked back at the road.

They drove in silence for awhile, until Peter's car sped up behind them. Scott cursed as Peter tailgated him for a few minutes and then sped past the jeep. "That guy is douchebag," Stiles mumbled, and then said to Derek, "No offense."

"None taken," Derek said plainly. Obviously he thought Peter could be a douchebag.

"Derek, I have to ask. Who's Gramma?" Stiles asked, looking over his shoulder at the other.

"My grandmother." He said.

"Isn't it supposed to be Grandma? With a d?" Scott asked curiously, and Derek shrugged.

"It's a joke," Derek said, "One that stuck." They sat in silence again until Scott slowly drove through a red light.

"That was red, Scott. Okay, what's the joke. Gramma?" Stiles asked, and Derek shrugged again.

"It's an inside joke." He explained, and Stiles rolled his eyes.

They continued to Stiles' house, and everyone exited the car. Derek held the carrier close, a frayed blanket placed delicately over the top. As Stiles dug in his pocket for keys to the house, Scott stood close to him, looking at the carrier that Derek held.

"Is she asleep?" Scott asked, and Derek looked down at the carrier.

"...yeah." He replied. Stiles finally found the keys, so he opened the door and stepped inside. His phone started beeping with messages that finally went through after they had gotten out of the no signal zone of Beacon Hills.

"Okay, do whatever, I've got to call my dad," Stiles said, walking into the kitchen as he started checking all the windows and doors and securing them with one hand and the phone in the other. "Hey, yeah. Parrish, is it? Okay, can you tell my dad that I'm okay? I was at the Hale fire. I don't know if he knew about it, there was a police car there...no, I'm fine. I went in, but I'm okay. ...I think I'd know if I was okay or not." He lifted the curtain off a window in the bathroom as he walked in, making sure it was locked. "Can you just tell him I'm at home and we have a visitor? Who? Um...Derek Hale. Derek Hale and his baby. Her name is Luna. No, I'm not being held hostage. Do I need anyone to come here? ...yeah, my dad, when he comes home. I think I'm okay, Parrish." Stiles walked out of the bathroom, finding Derek in front of him with the baby wrapped in a blanket. The other gave him a look before Stiles walked around him. "So when is he coming home? It's already like four in the morning...what do you mean he's on call? On call to where? ...oh. ...did you just find him asleep on his desk again? Yeah, I figured. Okay, look, when he's up, tell him I'm at home tonight. Yeah. Thanks. You have a good night too." He hit end call as he turned, looking for Derek. He was gone again.

"I literally just turned for a second." He said out loud as he looked in the living room, finding Scott surfing away on his phone.

"My mom said she might come over before work to check on you," Scott said as Stiles walked by his chair, and Stiles nodded.

"Yeah, that's good, but what happened to Derek. I have to set up the guest room...I mean, it's not...baby friendly. Come help me."

"I don't know what babies do." Scott said as he followed Stiles upstairs, and they walked into the guest room. Stiles looked at the bed, which had a ton of paperwork on it. "...um, okay, let's just put this all in my room. My dad uses this place as a study because...yeah, we don't get visitors a lot anymore." He started shoving the paperwork in a pile, then handed it to Scott to carry into Stiles' room. After relocating the paperwork, Stiles grabbed another blanket and threw it on the queen sized bed.

"Scott, could you help me move this dresser in front of the outlet so the baby can't finger it? I mean, you know, put her finger in it and get zapped." Scott pushed the dresser on the wooden floor, making Stiles scowl. "Scott! This floor is real wood!"

"Sorry! Look, it's moved. What else?"

"I don't know, um...I think it's good," Stiles said as he observed the room.

"I put her diaper in the washer," Derek said from the doorway, making Stiles jump.

When what Derek said processed in his mind, Stiles said with a very dismayed and disgusted look, "...you put **what** in the washer?"

"Cloth diaper." Derek said, pointing to the baby still wrapped in the blanket.

"But...is she naked now?" Stiles said, then tried looking at her face. Derek kept turning to keep him from looking at her. With a glare, Stiles looked at the other skeptically.

"Don't look at her," Derek stated icily.

"Why? Okay, whatever. I want to sleep. Scott, let's go sleep in my room. Derek, do whatever. I don't care." He waved his hands in the air as he walked out of the room, and then Scott followed. They ambled into Stiles' room a ways down the hall, and then Stiles fell face first on his bed. "Scott. It's Sunday. It's Sunday morning and tomorrow we have to go to school."

"Why did you have to bring that up," Scott protested, grabbing Scott's quilt from where it fell on the floor. He threw it on the floor and then laid on top of it. Scott threw his Star Wars body pillow at Scott, and then curled up under his sheets.

"Because I'm a masochist, I'm sorry," Stiles muttered, and then looked over the edge of the bed. "Can you lock my bedroom door?"

Scott crawled over to the door, locked it, and then flipped off the light and crawled back to his pile on the floor. "Night Stiles."

"Night Scott." He laid awake for awhile, watching Scott drift off to sleep. After what seemed like a half an hour, he heard noises in the hall. "Scott...Scott, wake up." He reached out and poked Scott, but his friend snored in response. He listened for a minute, hearing something scurry on the floor, and then a loud growling noise at footsteps. Then Derek's voice. It wasn't threatening, but more stern, like he was disciplining something in the hallway. Stiles looked at the ceiling, waiting for them to close their door again. It closed after awhile, but left Stiles to think about what could have scurried on the floor. A giant cockroach? His mind briefly drifted to the thing he saw in the Walcott's freezer room.

"Goodbye, sleep," He muttered to himself, and then continued to stare at the ceiling.


	18. Morning Baby Duty

"Stiles, my mom's coming," Scott whispered, shaking his shoulder. In the early morning, Stiles must have drifted off to sleep. Now he was super groggy and groaned as he pushed Scott's face away. Scott fell back with a thud, then got up. "Come on! She's got work, she's stopping for like two minutes. Oh, and your dad said he'll be home at eleven." When Stiles didn't move, Scott ripped the covers off of him. He grunted angrily as he took his pillow and threw it at Scott.

"Why." Stiles whined, and then finally but begrudgingly sat up. He glared at Scott, who was changing into one of his shirts and one of his pairs of khakis. He stripped right in front of him, and threw his shirt on the floor.

"Come on," Scott begged, and then tossed a shirt with pacman on it at Stiles, along with a pair of pants. "Let's go down. If you miss her, she's not going to be happy."

"I know," Stiles muttered, and took off his shirt and pants. "Can you throw me a pair of boxers? I haven't changed in like two days."

"They're still good for another day, but sure," Scott said as he dug in Stiles' underwear drawer, then tossed the boxers to Stiles. He quickly changed, and then walked over and grabbed a pair of socks, leaning on his dresser as he put them on.

"I'm going to open the guest room door when we walk by. You know, to check on them. Like if they need something," Stiles said, steadying himself. "And if they do I'm probably not going to accommodate but you know, just the thought counts. It's too damn early to take orders."

"Is that why you never listen to coach? He's always your first hour. I think the principal is punishing him," Scott commented as he took a pair of socks and tugged them on as he sat on the bed. Once they both were fully dressed, Scott yanked open the door and they both tiptoed out of the bedroom and down the hall. As soon as Stiles reached the door, he slowly turned the door knob and peeked in. There was Derek, shirtless, cradling a passed out baby on his chest. She had on the same onesie they changed her into after the fire from last night, and it already looked filthy. After he bit his lower lip, he slowly closed the door and motioned for Scott to continue down the steps.

The two of them reached the bottom of the staircase and Stiles commented, "He's shirtless."

"Guy gets comfortable fast," Scott said as he opened the front door, and watched as his mother pulled in the driveway. "Hell yeah! Our timing is perfect. Okay, sit down in the living room." Stiles walked into the living room and flopped onto the chair, but turned around and gave Mrs. McCall a pleasant smile.

"Melissa," He exclaimed gallantly, and she rolled her eyes as she walked in and set down a first aid bag.

"Stiles. Can you live to graduation? Or is this the norm now?" She said with a hint of sarcasm as she moved to the chair, and then bent down. "Any cuts? Bruises? I'm going to listen to your chest."

"No, not to my knowledge, and okay," He said as she dug out a flashlight, shining it into both of his eyes.

"Pupils dilating like normal." She grabbed his wrist, looking at her watch. "Heartbeat normal. You feel okay? Stand up." He obediently stood to his feet, and she turned him around by his shoulder, then pressed her ear against his back. "...you sound perfectly healthy to me, but I told your father already he should have you go to a doctor."

"Aww, why?" Stiles groaned as he looked at her, "I sound perfectly fine. I just finished my antibiotics!"

"And you almost died running into a burning house," Mrs. McCall said in an authoritative tone, putting the flashlight back in her bag. "There was enough carbon monoxide in that house to kill you, I'm sure. How you managed to get out I don't think anyone knows. But now we have to look at the potential damage it might have caused to your lungs, and I can't tell you that. A doctor has to." She smiled as she put an arm around him in a half hug. "I'm glad you're alive. Don't do anything that stupid again. Leave that to the firefighters."

"Yes, Mrs. McCall," Stiles said with a frown, giving her a gentle hug in return. "I'll try not to run into any burning buildings."

"I'm serious, Stiles," She scolded, then leaned over and kissed Scott on the cheek. "Have a good day. And don't forget you have school tomorrow, so make sure your homework's done and you make it there on time. Love you, Scott."

"Love you too, mom, thanks." Scott gave her a warm smile. She walked out the door, and Stiles sighed as she left toting the first aid bag.

"I feel perfectly fine. I feel even better than fine, I feel great." Stiles objected to Scott, and Scott shrugged. "Hey, you hear that whining sound? Did a pipe break?"

They both went quiet, and a soft whining sound started up again. It occurred to Stiles that the whine sounded an awful lot like a young kid, and they did have guests upstairs. He walked up the steps and opened the door, looking in.

There was Luna, slapping her father's face as she whined for him to get up. Obviously after a hell of a night before, Stiles understood why he was sleeping through his child's baby bitch slaps. He walked over and picked her up, and she gave him a strange look. He put her on his chest and walked out of the room, quietly reprimanding her in a not-so-disciplinary tone. "You're going to wake up your dad and he's had a long day, so we're going to let him sleep." He said, and she clung to his shirt as he went down the steps. "Don't worry, I'm not going to drop you."

"What are you doing, dude? You just took the baby?" Scott said as he walked over, and smiled at her. "Awww, look at her bedhead hair. She's filthy though, did they change her after the fire?"

"Her outfit looked clean last night to me, I don't know what happened." Stiles walked over to the couch and sat down with her on his lap. "Who's the cute baby? You're the cute baby." She smiled at Stiles as he hid behind his hands, and then moved his hands and went, "Peekaboo!" She started giggling loudly.

"Aww, I want to try!" Scott walked over and sat by Stiles. "Stiles, wait, let's do it together." They both covered their face, and then Stiles nudged Scott when he expected him to peekaboo. "Peekaboo!"

"Peekaboo!" When Luna saw their faces at the same time, she started giggling harder, hiccuping. They laughed and then Scott rubbed her head affectionately.

"This reminds me I wanted siblings. My mom wouldn't tell me where they came from but everyone had them," Scott said, and then grinned. "Did you want siblings? I mean, we pretty much adopted each other after the first time we met."

"I don't really remember it, but my dad told me once," Stiles smiled as he booped Luna's nose with his pointer finger, and she grabbed his finger and rubbed her chin on his hand. "Said I annoyed the hell out of them for a brother. I'd come home when I was like four and tell him I took a vote in class and more than half the class had siblings already so he should work on that already. He said they thought about it, but then mom got sick and...I don't know, it just didn't pan out." He went quiet, and Scott understandably patted him on the shoulder.

"Sorry. Hey, look at her. Why is she doing that to your arm?" Scott pointed to Luna, who was rubbing her chin on Stiles' wrist now.

"I don't actually know. It's weird isn't it? She did that to me before." Stiles observed as he let the baby do whatever she wanted. She seemed entertained by it, so why not? "Maybe she doesn't know how to communicate well. Luna, Luna. Let's try talking." He tickled her sides, making her giggle so he could get her attention. "Say pa. Pa." Thinking he was doing something to amuse her again, she started giggling at his noise-making. "No, no, we're learning now. Pa. Say pa." She looked at him, tilting her tiny head.

"Pah." She said finally, and Stiles clapped happily. He held her up so she could stand on his lap.

"Ah! You did it, good job!" She smiled in response, her eyes bright as he leaned in closer again. "Okay, now say, papa. Papa."

She frowned, listening to him again. "...Baba."

"No, no. Papa. Paa. Paa." He said slowly, and she reached up to touch his mouth. He stopped talking, raising his eyebrows as she felt his nose. "Hey. You. You got my nose." She snorted as he tickled her again, and then sat her back down on his lap. Scott looked impressed as he stared at Stiles.

"I really didn't think you'd be good with kids," Scott admitted as Stiles frowned, and then added, "Guess we've never really been around any to test it out."

"I'm great with my cousins. Hey, we forgot to feed her something. You think she likes pancakes?" Stiles stood up, carrying her on his chest into the kitchen. "Who wants pancakes! Luna wants pancakes! And Stiles wants pancakes. Scott, does Scott want pancakes?"

"Scott definitely wants pancakes," Scott commented, sitting on a stool at the counter. "Here, let me have her while you do the pancake thing."

"You mean making the pancakes," Stiles said as he passed the baby, and Luna looked at Scott. Scott smiled as he set her in front of him on the counter and she slowly smiled back.

"Yeah, that. Look Luna! I have..." He looked around on the counter, then pulled a napkin from the dispenser. "A napkin! Look at this amazing thing! You can fold it, you can wear it as a hat," He put it on her head, and she giggled as she grabbed it, growling a little as she looked at it between her chubby fingers.

"It's criminal how cute she is." Stiles grabbed a pan off of the rack, and then got out a mixing bowl. He started mixing the ingredients together, and then whisked them as he watched Luna shake the napkin. "See, who needs expensive toys. Look how much that ten cent napkin entertains her."

"I know, right? She's having the time of her life." Scott watched as Luna tried pulling the napkin apart, and the napkin popped and ripped in half. "Wow, she's strong."

"Yeah, she is." Putting the frying pan on the stove top, he started frying up the pancakes. "Ridiculously strong."

"Do it again!" Scott said as he gave her another napkin. She looked at him, and then the napkin, and then tried tugging it again, ripping it in half. A small giggle escaped her lips as she started reaching for another napkin, and Scott retrieved it for her and gave it to her. "Oh my god, it's like watching the most amazing feat. Stiles, seriously. We need a baby."

"Scott, I don't think I have to explain to you how that wouldn't work," Stiles said with a grin, flipping the pancake. "Besides, if the Hales keep sticking around, we can just hang out with their baby. Baby borrowing. Sounds like a good business."

"Aren't you going to friend break up with him? I mean, I don't mind him now, we've been through so much. And you, I'll always be friends with you, just keep ripping napkins." Scott handed Luna another napkin, and she looked at it with the same curiosity as she did the first one.

"I don't know, he seems like he's down, it's a bad time. I mean, his house did just burn down, and yeah he might be in a gang but aren't we all in a gang?" Stiles said hypothetically, and Scott narrowed his eyes.

"...no?..."

"No, I just mean maybe his family is just weird. And the more I think about it the more I think if there is weird crap going down, maybe we should be friends with the family of hulks. Who knows what kind of weird crap is out there." Stiles said as he put a pancake on a plate, and then added more mixture to the skillet. "But I'm going to find out what the hell they're hiding."

"How? They're like cultish and cliquey. I doubt they're going to tell us." Scott handed Luna another napkin, now a bit absentmindedly. "It's not like you walk up to the hulk and go, 'hey, you're strong, what's your darkest secrets you don't want anyone knowing about'."

"I know. I'm working on it, okay." He put another pancake on the plate, then made another, and another. Scott was handing Luna napkins, but now in his distraction he started watching Stiles.

"Maybe we can like, I don't know...look up their family history. How long they've been in Beacon Hills."

"I tried that. Everything at the library is like blotted out or checked out. It's like the Hales have been hiding their family history for years." He started dishing out the pancakes, and then handed Scott a plate. "Okay, Luna, here comes the- Scott what the flying fuck **no**! Cough it up!" He yelled at the top of his voice, startling Luna. He dug his hand past her lips. "How many? How many napkins have you let her _eat_?!"

"I-I wasn't paying attention! She dropped three - oh god, she's been eating them this entire time?! I kept passing them!" Scott looked at her with his hands on his head, panicking. "Oh god, what do we do with her!"

Stiles kept feeling around in her mouth, but there wasn't anything but gums in there. "Oh my god, she's actually eaten them," She looked at him with interest. Removing his finger from her mouth, he put a hand on his forehead as he looked at the napkins. "Okay, maybe it's no big deal, it's just paper, I mean, people digest paper, right?"

"Yeah, I used to eat paper," Scott breathed heavily, "That scared the hell out of me, Stiles. We can't be parents."

"I know, this is terrible, I mean, you almost broke the baby." Stiles said, grabbing the plate of pancakes. "Maybe you should call your mom and like, double check. I mean, I don't want her getting all blocked up in there from paper. No one wants a baby that can't poop. ...or maybe they do but they also fear it? I don't know. I just don't want her exploding."

"I'll go text her." Scott got up and walked to the door, running into Derek. Derek gave him a glare as he said,

"Where's my daughter?" Scott gestured nervously at Stiles at the counter, and Stiles swallowed as he held out the plate with a pancake on it to Derek. Then Scott took the moment of distraction to his advantage and slipped out into the living room.

"I made pancakes, she looked...hungry."

"Why are there napkins on the floor," Derek said, taking the plate suspiciously.

With a limp shrug, Stiles said cautiously, "Because...Scott was entertaining Luna. He tore up napkins to make her laugh."

Derek stared at Stiles, and then said, "She ate the napkins, didn't she."

Stiles looked at the door where Scott had left, and then said, "...yes. But she didn't eat that many."

The older male set the pancake plate on the counter next to Luna, and the baby reached over and grabbed the edge of it, tugging it over to her. "She does that." He commented after making Stiles worry for a couple minutes. Stiles glared at Derek, but was inwardly relieved. Derek tore up the pancake and gave Luna a piece.

"Oh thank god."

"You have to watch babies carefully because they try eating anything and everything." Derek explained as he gave her another piece of pancake, and gave Stiles a disapproving look. "She can tell when someone's inexperienced. She'll take advantage of that."

"She's like one, I really doubt she can sense our inexperience," Stiles said with skepticism, but then frowned and looked at Luna. Could she? Could she tell? He leaned on the counter thinking about it.

"When will your parents be home?" Derek asked as he fed Luna another pancake scrap.

"Dad. My dad will be home at approximately eleven this morning." Stiles said. As Derek took the moment to look at Luna, Stiles looked at the shirtless man. He was really ripped - his muscles were so defined he could have been an abercrombie and fitch model. It was sort of abnormal to see this really built guy being so gentle with a little baby. Somehow neither of them fit together, but it was kind of enjoyable to see. Like a unicorn.

"Is there a reason you're staring at me?" Derek asked blatantly, and Stiles covered up his face, looking away.

"Nope. No reason. Besides you not wearing a shirt. Kinda weird." Stiles said hurriedly. He heard the other chuckle.

"Well I guess that's my fault. My wardrobe is limited since the rest of it burned," He said, and Stiles winced.

"Yeah...forgot about that. I mean, you can borrow mine but...It probably won't fit. Probably not."

"It doesn't matter, I have to get her more clothes anyways," Derek said as he picked up a piece of pancake Luna had dropped, and she snagged it from his fingers with her mouth. "Hey, no biting." He lectured as she gave him a grumpy glare.

"She's got your forehead." Stiles said as he looked through his fingers at the baby.

"She's got a lot of me in her." He said with a smile, then pushed the plate back. "So your mother won't be home until after work?"

Stiles stared at Derek, and the other turned to look at him. When Stiles said nothing, Derek looked away and lifted Luna off the counter, getting up from the stool. "Divorced?"

"Let's just say me and her have a lot in common." Stiles commented as he motioned to Luna, and Derek frowned.

"Sorry. I didn't mean..."

"You didn't know." Stiles shrugged. "Don't worry about it. Actually, you probably thought I was an asshole that day I told you to care about her more than your dead wife, but I was being serious. Because I know what it feels like when something's missing and you can't bring it back. Especially when it's a hole in your family. No one talks about it and it only makes it worse. Not for the dead. But for her." He straightened up, rubbing his nose as he motioned towards the door. "I'm going to go talk to my friend, you're welcome to do...whatever..."

Derek nodded as he looked at Luna, who was smiling as she smushed a piece of pancake in her right hand. She took the moment to look at Derek and said, "Papa." Stiles smiled, but he wasn't prepared for the expression of indescribable joy that appeared on Derek's face as Luna said the word.

"Yeah, papa!" He looked like he was going to cry.

Stiles looked at him curiously and then said, "What, has she not talked yet? I thought she would've talked by now,"

"The doctors kept saying she was delayed because of emotional trauma of losing her mom," Derek said, bouncing Luna a bit in his arms before he kissed her head. "I haven't heard her try to say something in awhile."

"...really? She talks all the time for me. We've done that twice now," Stiles said, gesturing to Luna. Derek gave him a baffled look, and then a slightly suspicious one as he looked at Luna, and then back at Stiles.

"You know, I think I'm going to go now." He said, walking out of the room. Stiles roamed out into the living room, finding Scott lost in his phone.

"Dude, did you decide not to come back?" Stiles asked, leaning on the back of the chair.

"My mom's not responding so I was surfing trying to figure out if eating napkins is okay," Scott explained, and then he pointed at his phone screen. "So many people eat napkins, Stiles. So many people. I can't stop reading. Babies, teenagers, old people, they all eat napkins and there's no explanation for it, they just like eating napkins." He looked at Stiles, mildly concerned. "There's no taste in napkins, Stiles. There's no taste. Why are they eating them?"

Stiles sighed as he patted Scott on the shoulder comfortingly. "Scott, sometimes things are meant to stay a mystery."


	19. Too Many Secrets

"So you think he'll be back before your dad?" Scott asked, stabbing his pancakes with his fork. He dripped syrup on the table as he shoved them in his mouth. Stiles shrugged as he cut his own pancakes.

"I don't know. Shopping for a baby after a house fire seems like it'd take awhile. I wonder how long it'll be before they're back in their house? A month? So after graduation."

"Yeah," Scott said, looking at his pancakes, his chewing less enthusiastic. Stiles noticed, and narrowed his eyes with intrigue.

"What? What's up?"

"About graduation," Scott said, and looked at Stiles sheepishly, "I'm not going to be walking with you. Don't tell my mom yet, I'm not sure how I'm going to break it to her."

"You're not going to what? Wait, what?" Stiles put down his fork in shock. "You're not graduating? What happened?"

"Look, it's not a big deal. I have to redo my senior year," Scott explained as he shook his head, "There's nothing to it, okay? I knew I was doing bad but after midyear finals I realized my grades were probably not going to pass. I've been hiding my report cards. I actually, I gave my mom one from junior year I found under my bed and she thought it was from the previous semester, so..."

"Scott! Scott, why didn't you tell me?" Stiles said angrily, his fists clenched as he gave his friend a hurt look, his eyebrows knit together. "I would've helped you!"

"I know you would've dude, but I just wasn't getting the stuff. I didn't want you bother you. I mean, you were in advanced classes, I didn't want your grades dropping because you spent all your time trying to help me." Scott frowned as he stabbed at his pancakes again. "I applied for a job and got it at this vet clinic, I'll be working in Beacon Hills for another year while I finish high school. That's why I got my licenses, so I could drive myself."

"Scott. We had all these plans for going to college together, we were going to live in the same dorm! We were going to join a fraternity and do crazy stuff together!"

"I know, dude, don't you think I'm pissed at myself enough? Look, you'll do great in university. But I think I'm just going to go to community college."

Stiles shoved his dish forwards on the table and then stood up and walked straight out of the room. He heard Scott clamor to his feet, following after him. "Don't, Scott, I'm pissed right now." He said as his friend put a hand on his shoulder, trying to turn him around. He shoved Scott back, and raised his voice. "The only reason I was looking forward to university was because we were both going! I'm going in as undecided, I don't know what the hell I want to do with my life! It's always been you and me and now you're telling me you're staying here, in Beacon Hills, you got a job, and you're starting this life completely split from mine - fuck you! I can't believe you decided all this without me! Of course I would have probably gotten a B in advanced classes instead of all A's but I would have done it gladly to help you pass your courses! I don't believe you wanted to be a senior senior, you know how embarrassing that is?" He shoved Scott again, fury written all over his face. Scott opened his mouth, looking offended but couldn't get a word in edgewise. "We've been together since preschool, Scott! We're like brothers! We're closer than brothers! Besides my dad, you're the closest thing I have to family," His eyes watered as he clenched his teeth together, pained.

"Stiles," Scott said quietly, pulling the other into a tight hug. "It's going to be okay. I'll spend my weekends with you, okay? I could've biked to work. I learned to drive so I could visit you, man." Stiles limply moved his arms to hug Scott, leaning on him. "I'm sorry. I'm just not as smart as you are."

"No. No, I don't believe that," Stiles said grumpily into Scott's shoulder, still embracing the other. "We'll get your grades up."

Scott smiled, leaning back to look at Stiles. "Look, you've got so much going on right now. After I do a few years in community college I can transfer, I can go to university with you for your senior year."

"We'll get your grades up Scott," Stiles insisted, then moved away from Scott. "What classes are you failing?"

"Spanish, calculus, geometry..." Scott started listing uneasily, looking away. "...American history..."

"How can you fail American history?" Stiles looked baffled, but waved for Scott to stop. "Those are the only ones, then?"

"Yeah."

"I can help you with calculus, geometry and history, but I don't know any Spanish. I think I can probably get a rosetta stone program and start learning it though...you're in second year Spanish?" Scott nodded slowly. "I can learn it fast. It'll take awhile, but I can do it."

"Stiles, come on. You can't learn an entire language yourself, we've got like a month and a half left."

"But we still have spring break next week," Stiles cautioned, walking away as he put his hand thoughtfully on his chin. "I can do it in a week. It's like that time I had to learn Japanese to play that game that never came out in the U.S. It's doable." He looked at Scott. "Do you trust me?"

"Yeah," Scott said assuredly. "Of course I do."

"Then we're going to find a way for you to pass."

Stiles and Scott turned when they heard the lock click in the front door, and Mr. Stilinski burst through the door.

"Stiles!" He said loudly, abandoning his bag by the front door. He hurried over to Stiles and threw his arms around him, giving him the tightest bear hug he could. "I'm sorry I didn't come by quicker. I fell asleep trying- I want to know exactly what happened, tell me everything. Are you okay? I made you a doctors appointment for an hour from now." He looked at his watch, and then looked displeased. "Well, forty five minutes. Okay, let's go now, you can tell me in the car. Scott, can you stay here? I need to talk to my son alone."

"Sure," Scott said, and Stiles wheedled his way out of his dad's arms. He motioned for his dad to wait as he walked upstairs. He grabbed a book from his bedroom and then came back down, and shoved it in Scott's arms.

"Study chapters twelve through eighteen. And when you finish reading them read them again." Stiles said, and then turned to his dad, and motioned for him to follow him out front. They hopped in the police car his father had parked in the driveway.

"Stiles, I'm sorry I didn't come by sooner. There's a lot of major crimes going on right now," His father said as he turned on the car, backing out. Stiles shook his head and smiled faintly at his father.

"It's okay dad, you have stuff to do. I'm fine. I really am fine. Mrs. McCall checked me out this morning and everything." Stiles said as he looked out the window.

"She said she couldn't tell if you had damage to your lungs from smoke inhalation, so we have to get it checked out. I...I wanted to talk to you about something." Stiles looked over at his father, and Sheriff Stilinski glanced at him before he looked back at the road. "I'm out a lot. And I know right now you're in way over your head in something I don't even understand. But Stiles, I care. You're my boy, my son. And I promise I will make sure you're safe. Even when it seems like I'm not around, trust me, I am trying."

"...dad, what do you know about the Hales?" Stiles asked curiously, his eyes resting on his father's face as the other looked on.

"The Hales." Sheriff sighed roughly. "When I got into the position of Sheriff, I wasn't really briefed over anything. I was young. You'd think in a small town like this you wouldn't have a huge amount of crime, but it's not a safe area, Stiles. I try to make it a safe place, but this town has more unsolved cases than a large city. We had to purchase a building next door to the station to store the files that are still a mystery." Sheriff tapped his fingers on the wheel, and Stiles glanced at his hands. It was the same thing he did when he was thinking of how to word something and multitask driving at the same time. "Within a week there were three cases where people were found chopped in half. That was the beginning of my career. I've seen beheaded bodies abandoned in the forest around town. The strange thing, Stiles, is whenever we get close to nailing someone for the crimes the evidence disappears. It's like a black hole exists in the station and no matter how many people are on duty, we lose these important pieces of evidence that could convict the people like the Hales. I've been threatened before Stiles - people have threatened my family for throwing out evidence on the Hales. I didn't want to lose the evidence. Fortunately I've kept us safe this long."

"Did Derek Hale babysit me once?" Stiles asked, giving his dad a quizzical look. Sheriff grimaced and nodded.

"Back when your mother was sick and I was working, I was putting in a lot of late hours and we needed a babysitter. Talia Hale is actually a very pleasant woman when you first meet her. She's very personable and easy going. She said she wanted to teach her son to be responsible and hardworking, so I said he could try babysitting you. You were like five or six." He itched his face with his free hand, one hand still on the wheel. "But then I started digging deeper in the case files and found things about the Hales I didn't like, and I let Derek go. He actually was a nice kid when he was younger. Said you were fun but he understood. You actually thought he was your brother for a little bit."

Stiles was quiet as he looked out the window, thinking back. He couldn't recall any of this, so he didn't have the words to describe how it made him feel.

"Stiles, there's unexplained things in Beacon Hills. I actually...I thought about moving several times, but you had your life here, so we stayed. You seemed happy. And I didn't want to rob you of that. Because..."

"Dad," Stiles warned, knowing where this was going. Sheriff stopped, and then sighed.

"I'm sorry, Stiles," Mr. Stilinski said as he turned down one of the country roads. There was a burning stack of chairs in the middle of the road. They both looked towards it, both as confused as the other. "What the hell..." He slowed down, rolling past the burning chair. Stiles gripped the car handle as he looked around the edge of the road. Sheriff hit the brakes, reaching down for his gun. He grabbed the radio and then said, "Stilinski on call. We have a 10-53 situation on the turn onto Cranberry road from Dusk road. No traffic. I'm going to investigate, 10-12, standby for further report. I repeat, 10-53 on Cranberry road." He put the radio back on the lock and looked at his son. "Stiles, stay in the car."

"Dad, don't get out," Stiles said worriedly, watching as his father unbuckled and opened his door slowly. He gave a pleading glance to his father as he watched the other walk around the car, looking around. Stiles immediately opened the door and stepped out into the road.

"Stiles, get back in the car!"

"Dad, you get back in the car too. Let's just drive." Stiles said arguably, hearing a shuffling behind him. He barely turned around in time to see Sean Walcott and his father. He opened his mouth, but Mr. Walcott grabbed him and stabbed his arm with what felt like a needle, pressing painfully hard into his skin. Stiles went cross eyed as he fainted.


	20. Revenge of the Wendigo

The dizziness was strong as Stiles opened his eyes, trying to focus. He vaguely remembered his father had gotten out of the car, and the floor underneath him didn't feel like blacktop of the road they had been on. He slowly pushed himself off the concrete, looking at broken ivory colored brick surrounding him. He squinted as he noticed a figure coming towards him, and he moved against the wall he was near.

"He's awake, Deucalion," A woman called out, her voice echoing. Stiles could see a man walking towards him, leaning down. He was unfamiliar with this obvious stranger, and he put up his arm defensively. The stranger had a pair of sunglasses that masked his eyes, and a long cane that he was leaning on.

"Don't be afraid. So you're that human they've been following. What's special about you, hmm?" The man reached down, offering Stiles his hand. Stiles moved away, staying on the floor.

"I'm not involved," Stiles said flatly, and Deucalion laughed as he pulled his hand back.

"I know you are. You see, there's a war going on, Stiles," The man mused out loud, walking away, his back turned. "The Hales have interfered with progress for the last time. They refuse to conform to the new order, so we're getting rid of them."

"Getting rid of them?"

"For years werewolves have been made a mockery of by mankind. We've kept quiet, died meaningless deaths by hunters, been slaughtered in packs...What do we get for our silence? Nothing. We gain nothing."

"Did you just say werewolves?" Stiles said skeptically, but Deucalion wasn't paying attention.

"Centuries of murders of our kind and we have stayed complacent to the way of the past. No more. We're not hiding anymore. Not when we are capable of so much more."

"No, really," Stiles tried interjecting, putting up his hand. "Werewolves? Did I hear you correctly?" He paused, watching as the dark haired woman gave him a curious glance, and Deucalion slowly turned to look at Stiles.

"Do you not know?" He grinned as Stiles opened his mouth, but hesitated to respond. "You really don't know?"

"No," Stiles said shortly, and then stood up to his feet, leaning on the wall nearby. "I don't know. Is this some sort of cult belief thing? Like those people who believe they're vampires and drink human blood?"

"No, Stiles," Deucalion frowned as he looked at the woman. "Kali, tell the Walcotts they can have him. He's useless. They haven't told him anything. He won't know what we need to know about the symbols."

"Wait," Stiles said as the woman approached him, grabbing him by his arm and yanking him forwards. "How about I don't go to the Walcotts?" Trying to fight against the extremely powerful rock that was Kali, he said nervously but with a bit of humor in his tone, "If you're all werewolves, what are the Walcotts- '_wendigos_'?"

He wasn't expecting the followed response. "Yes, actually, they are." Deucalion replied, turning away as Kali tugged Stiles out into the gallery. "Tell the Walcotts if they want to ensure their alliance with us, they should put this boy's bones in a box and mail it to the Hales."

There was a giant room with counters - it must have been another abandoned building, and from the looks of it, it might have been a bank. He saw Sean and his father waiting in the corner next to a giant man who towered over the both of them.

"Deucalion wants to trust your alliance, but he needs something dealt with first." The woman said as she threw Stiles at their feet. He hit the floor on all fours, his hands and knees aching on impact. "Kill him and put your leftovers in a box addressed to the Hales. We're declaring war with his remains."

"Wait - wait, no, wait," Stiles started to stand, but Mr. Walcott lifted his hand and extended one finger. With a horrific realization, Stiles noticed Mr. Walcott's hand was mutated: a gigantic claw was protruding from the end of his finger. It hadn't been a needle before - it was a claw. The man put it on Stiles' head, puncturing his skin on his head. Stiles felt dizzy and passed out.

* * *

><p>"No," Stiles said out loud, startled awake. It looked like he was in an airplane bathroom. Slowly gaining his memory back as he looked down at where he sat on the closed toilet seat. "What the...I'm naked?" He looked around for something to cover himself with, but the walls were yellowing plastic, with one tiny window with blinds covering them that was barely the size of a baseball. Nothing made of cloth was to be seen. He looked at the door, then reached over and tried to move it. There was a metallic clink from the outside lock.<p>

"This is not good," He muttered to himself as the fear set in again. Standing to his feet, he pushed the blinds slightly, looking out at the surrounding forest beyond the tiny window. "...I'm in the woods. This must be a camper?" He looked to his left, then spotted the two figures again - this time it was just Sean and what looked like his older brother. They were prodding a fire.

"That's not good either," He let the blinds shut, and then looked at the window, trying to push it open. It tilted a little so he could hear the outside conversation if he concentrated. Then he started looking in the cabinet underneath the sink, trying to find something to help him open the door.

"I still don't get why you have to masquerade as dad," Sean's voice sounded, and his older brother snorted loudly.

"You don't think they know that dad and mom were stronger than us? If they knew two juveniles were heading our clan now, they'd kill us in a heartbeat. We need to seem like we still hold power." Stiles' eyes fell on the cleaning products underneath the sink, and he knelt down to try and dig through them quietly.

"True." There was a lengthy pause, which made Stiles look towards the window. "Hey David. Are you thinking what I'm thinking?"

"We should hack off his limbs one by one. You know, if dad never tried to make a treaty with that damn Alpha pack, mom and dad would still be alive. All because of that little fucking prick in there. Why would they want to kill him so fast after we went to the trouble of kidnapping him twice? And why would the Hales bother to get him back? He's a fucking human. A worthless fucking human."

"Thanks," Stiles mumbled under his breath, looking beyond a few spray bottles at the pipes. They were all plastic. "Damnit."

"This fire is going pretty good. Why don't we roast him alive?"

In his frustration and panic at what he just heard, Stiles' hand slipped when he went to close the cabinet and it slammed shut a bit louder than he expected. He froze, listening.

"Did you hear that?" Sean said, and David soon followed it with,

"The window's open. Someone's awake and listening to us. Good. Hope you're squirming in there, asshole," David yelled, throwing something against the side of the trailer. "After we decide how we're dining tonight you're good as dead!"

Stiles' pursed his lips as he stood and opened a tiny compartment over the sink. He felt around. There were pill bottles, and...a screwdriver. It was obviously a cabinet they hadn't used in awhile because the amount of webs his fingers were hitting was sickening. Silently he grabbed the handle after rolling it towards a reachable area, then he looked around. He moved to the door and started unscrewing the hinges on the door.

"Fucker deserves it. You know, if we shove a wooden stick up his ass for the spit, it's probably the first time he's ever been touched. Probably a virgin. Seems like it doesn't he?" Stiles made a face, then flipped off the window over his shoulder. They couldn't see it but it made him feel a little bit better.

"Yeah," Sean said, sounding sad. "Still pissed the fire killed the cat too."

"Focus, Sean," David replied, "Revenge is just one decision away. You feeling the roast or should we grill?"

Stiles loosened the first hinge, then started on the next one.

"I'm feeling the roast." Sean said, and Stiles unloosened the last hinge and then slowly held the handle of the door as he walked it away from the entry and propped it quietly up against the sink. Slipping out, he started looking for some sort of weapon. He heard some more talking outside the trailer, and he swallowed as he grabbed a gun off the table. He also grabbed a long jacket, then quickly put it on. It was really damn cold running around naked. He checked the safety on the gun, then held it in his hands, still nervous as he waited for them to go towards the door. They were probably still partying by the fire, but he wasn't going to let his guard down. Edging towards a window covered by a curtain, he finally peeked out but only moved it a little so he could see but not give away his position.

His eyes widened when he saw the two heading towards the trailer. Freezing in place, he watched them approaching but then they both stopped. What were they stopping for? He couldn't remove his eyes from what he witnessed next: the two boys morphed into possibly the most horrific creatures Stiles had ever seen. Their mouths quadrupled in size and their bodies elongated, claws forming at their finger tips. "What the..." He said as he watched some figures circle the boys. Were those two _wolves_? One was pure black, and the other was dark gray.

Loosening his grip on the gun, he watched as the wolves leaped at the terrifying creatures and ripped at their skin. At some point, the massacre was too much for him and he let the curtain fall shut. He backed away, and then looked around for pants. He spotted a pair of pajama bottoms and tugged them on. They were a bit short for him but he didn't care at this point.

"Gotta get outta here," He said as he tried the window on the other side of the trailer. It would be tight, but it was bigger than the window in the bathroom. He opened it and then crawled halfway out the window. With the gun carefully wrapped tight in his palm, he hopped down and fell on the ground. Underneath the trailer he could see a severed head rolling towards it from the other side. "Oh my god," he whispered as he got to his feet not so gracefully, and then took off towards the forest. The ground was rough on the soles of his feet but he cleared a few trees before he looked over his shoulder to see if anyone was following him. In that brief second, he turned back and ran unexpectedly right into Derek's chest. He lifted the gun instinctively and the other had a split second before it went off to throw it aside - it went off and a bullet hit a tree nearby as it fell to the ground. The sudden movement had Stiles taken aback, and he stumbled with his hands up.

"Stop! Stay away," Stiles demanded, and Derek put up his hands.

"I wasn't going to come close. You ran into me." He stated without empathy. "Nice jacket."

"It's not mine," Stiles said, shutting his eyes as he rubbed his head. He could feel blood caked onto his hair - it must have been from that thing touching him with that razor sharp nail. "I...I need the hospital, I need to go home."

"Come with me."

Stiles opened his eyes to look at the other, and for a moment he remembered meeting Peter in the woods. How he didn't trust him to take him anywhere, and it took him awhile to drag Stiles unwillingly to a vehicle. He felt deep in his throat a knot beginning to form, and he also felt he couldn't protest. Something about Derek was making him resigned to the situation. Maybe it was spending more time with him, maybe he was starting to wear Stiles down. However, he still had a bit of fight left in him and it kept him resolved.

"I can't," He finally, reaching out to a tree to lean on it. "I don't trust you."

"Have I ever hurt you?" Derek asked, giving Stiles a skeptical look. Stiles narrowed his eyes as he rubbed his fingers on the tree bark, wishing he had the gun in his hands.

"Yeah. You shoved me multiple times and threatened to punch me in the face. Oh, and you were going to kill me." Derek rolled his eyes as he crossed his arms over his chest defensively.

"And you're still alive. Somehow." He glanced towards the sky, and then sighed. "Look, let me just get you home. We have to walk a ways to the car. It's going to be dark soon and we're really far from the nearest gas station."

"Why did that creepy guy with the sunglasses and the cane say you were a werewolf. And why did a pack of wolves just rip apart what was left of the wen-Walcott family. Why?" Stiles felt the knot in his throat turning into a burbling anger. It might have been residual fury from his frustration with Scott, and he couldn't take it anymore. "I can't trust you. You're hiding something. And that something almost got me roasted over the fire burning over there by two people clearly pissed that I just exist," He raised his voice, starting to walk towards Derek. "This is all your fault. Everything. Everything happening is your fault. You're ruining my life. Can't you take your fucked up family with your fucked up secrets to the furthest corner of this planet away from me? Is that too much to ask for? Do you enjoy seeing other people suffer? Is your goal to see me completely and utterly ripped of every last part of my sanity? Because you're seeing it. You're seeing it. Bravo, you've destroyed the life of a teenager. What a fucking accomplishment."

"Stiles," Derek's voice was passive, which infuriated Stiles even more.

"Don't even say my fucking name. You came into my house, knowing that my father was investigating your family, and you started poking around again huh? Did you need time to erase more evidence of your family murdering people?" Stiles glared darkly at Derek, his jaw set. "I watched your daughter. I...I took you in without asking my father and you put my whole family in danger. You sick bastard." He edged towards the gun, trying to see where it had fallen among the brush. When he hit his heel on it, he reached down and picked it up, pointing it at Derek. "Give me one good reason I shouldn't shoot you."

Derek's left eyebrow perked up, and he squinted his eyes as he moved his hands to his hips. "...I actually don't have a good reason. A reason. But not a good one. So I guess you're going to have to shoot me."

Stiles compressed the trigger under his finger, but didn't pull all the way. "What's the reason."

Derek shrugged as he said simply, "Stiles, I'm a werewolf."

"Really. I'm supposed to believe that." He said suspiciously as he stepped back, still holding the trigger. "Prove it."

"He doesn't need to." Peter's voice rang out from behind Stiles, and he swiftly came up behind the other and removed the gun from his hand with precision. He gestured with the gun towards a clearing in the direction Stiles had run from the trailer. "Watch."

Stiles turned, his hands falling by his sides as he saw the two wolves striding towards the small group they had formed. At first, he didn't know what he was supposed to see- these wolves could be someone's pets. Then he watched as they turned into people - the gray one morphed into the sweet old woman who he had seen first at the front door, still wearing a knit shawl on her shoulders as she now walked towards them. The other turned into Talia. She smiled at Stiles as she approached him, putting her hands on his cheeks as she kissed his forehead.

"I'm happy to see you're alive, Stiles," She said amiably, and Stiles stared at her with a dumbfounded expression.

He slowly mumbled, "But you're...people."

"Hence the were part," Peter said with a devious grin, slapping Stiles on the shoulder hard in order to make the other wince. "Welcome to the family, car thief."


	21. Hospital Blues

"So you're werewolves." Stiles repeated again, and Talia smiled as she motioned for Gramma to walk over.

"Gramma, do you have the hand?" She asked, and the old woman nodded as she held out a severed hand. When he saw the exchange, he stared in disgust at it until Talia turned to Peter and passed it to him. He gave her a 'I don't want it' look, but her intense stare seemed to make him oblige to shoving the gross object in his jacket.

"Why do I have to deliver it to Deaton," Peter complained as he lifted the gun and pointed the hilt at Stiles. "You might want to take this. It's your fathers."

At first it hadn't occurred to him that the gun he retrieved from the Walcott's trailer was his fathers, but now that he looked at it without the cloak of panic of trying to escape, he could see it was the one his dad had retrieved in the vehicle before he went outside the car. A feeling of despair was brewing inside him as he looked up at Peter, then immediately said, "Where's my dad? Is my dad okay?" The prospect of his father not being alive terrified him, and it was evident in his voice.

"Don't worry," Talia cautioned as she put a comforting hand on his shoulder. "Your father is alive. Wendigos have a type of venom that puts their victims to sleep for a short duration of time to preserve them because they enjoy live kills. But in a rare situation where wendigos have to protect themselves or don't take a target, they can administer an overdose of the venom in a victim, which causes a coma-like trance. It's only broken by taking the venom from the family of wendigos it came from and creating an antidote from it." She motioned to Peter, "Peter will take it to our emissary, Deaton. He'll make the antidote and give it to your father. We have connections at the hospital your father was admitted to, so we will be able to give it to him tonight. Time is of the essence, however, as after twenty four hours the victim stays asleep. So Peter..." She gave him a pressing glance, and the other sighed loudly to show his displeasure of being dismissed. He did turn and start off in the direction of the trailer.

"Stiles," Talia said again, noticing how distracted the boy was as he looked at his father's gun. "He'll be fine. But we have more urgent matters to attend to. We should go back to where we're staying in the motel to carry on this conversation."

"I need to go see my dad," Stiles said quietly, and looked at Talia. For a moment, he thought she would tell him it wasn't possible, but the woman's face softened and she frowned.

"Derek, take him to the hospital to see his father. On your way there, and after to the motel, you can take the time to explain a little more about our family." Stiles turned to look at Derek, who nodded at his mother's orders. "Don't take any detours."

"I won't. Come on Stiles," Derek said, waving the other in the direction of the car. "It's a bit of a walk."

Stiles stumbled after the other, pocketing the gun in his jacket. "Ugh. I'm wearing a wendigo's jacket."

"At least you're not naked," Derek said with a grin, and then motioned for Stiles to walk down a hill to the road. He had parked off the road so Peter's car wasn't noticeable until they were right in front of it.

"That would've been extremely uncomfortable. I don't think I could have looked at your Gramma the same way," He admitted, and then hesitated as Derek opened the passenger door for him. He looked at the other. Derek raised his eyebrows, motioning to the seat.

"Well?"

"It's just, I don't know. Sorry." The shorter boy ducked into the car, and leaned back in the seat as Derek shut the door and circled the vehicle. Getting in on the drivers side, Stiles was still looking a little blankly ahead of him. "So Luna...she's a little wolf puppy?"

Derek grinned as he started the car, and then turned off the music Peter had been playing as the car powered up. Stiles glanced over at him, and then glared. "What?"

"I just find it really funny for someone who hates my family so much, you seem to like my daughter an awful lot." The car rolled out onto the road as Stiles gave Derek an indignant look, putting up his hand.

"Hey. For a baby she's okay. So is she?" He put his hand down, looking at Derek now as he drove. "Does she wolf out?"

"Wolf out," Derek smirked as he said, "Yeah, she wolfs out. But my mom and Gramma are gifted with the ability to transform fully into a wolf. Luna...she's like me. We can transform into a wolf, but we retain most of our human form."

"Like wolf man. So why couldn't you show me that?" Stiles asked, looking perplexed.

"Probably because Peter thought you wouldn't be able to handle the 'wolf man' form. It's a bit easier for people to see a wolf than a human who has features of the wolf," He turned the car down a paved road, and then picked up speed. "That and Peter thinks you're a wuss who can't handle anything remotely bizarre."

"What?" Stiles looked a bit offended as he scoffed at the remark. "Peter is a dick."

"Yes he is," Derek agreed fully. The silence monopolized the conversation for a few minutes.

"...I could handle Luna as a wolf. That explains why she looked weird that night I picked her up. She was doing the wolf thing wasn't she?"

"Well," Derek began, frowning. "The fire was on a night of a full moon. That's...another story. But yeah, she was 'wolfed out'. Look, about Luna...I should probably tell you this now." He glanced at Stiles, surveying the look on his face before he continued. "When werewolves, natural born werewolves, are young...they don't know they're different. It's something that you learn as you grow up in a pack. In the first two years, they learn who their pack is, and after that, they're very suspicious of everyone else. Only the pack is supposed to be around the baby. I didn't want you to hold her when I left her with you. It was my fault."

"Why would that matter?" Stiles asked curiously, not getting what Derek was trying to say.

"Because that day she marked you with her scent, and that you can't wash off. It's a way to claim territory. I realized she had done it when I picked her carrier up. So I started following you around to make sure you weren't the target of anything. I didn't know what else to do. And as you can tell, there's a lot going on in Beacon Hills right now. Not the best time to be marked." He sighed. "Don't blame her though, she's just a baby. She must have seen you, thought you were someone who looked familiar, and marked you because she liked you. She didn't know what it meant for you, she just wanted to show she loved you and accepted you as her own."

Stiles bit his lip as he looked out the window of the passing trees. He realized now that the baby was responsible for his life being turned upside down. He had been furious when he thought it was just generally blaming the Hales for stalking him, but now that he knew Luna started the chain of events - he didn't know how to feel. She was a baby, and she had lost her mother. He could feel Derek's eyes on him as he waited for a response, so he finally said, "I don't blame her, she's just a kid. She didn't know."

Derek nodded as he pulled into the hospital, looking relieved as he parked.

Stiles looked over and saw Derek had buckled himself in. He offered him a small smile and said, "Hey, look who learned that restraining strap and buckle isn't just a car decoration."

Derek rolled his eyes as he unbuckled and climbed out. "Come on. The quicker we visit here, the quicker we'll get back to the motel."

"Why the hurry?" Stiles asked as he shut the door after climbing out himself. "Walcotts are gone, aren't they?"

"It's not the Walcotts we're worried about," Derek said, circling the car to the trunk. He popped it and retrieved a pair of Stiles' old sneakers. "Here." He tossed them to Stiles, who barely caught them in his arms.

"Wait, where did these come from?" He asked, and looked at the shoes. "These are mine."

Derek shrugged. "I figured if it was the Walcotts again they'd burn your clothes." He pulled out a bag and tossed it at Stiles. "There's your clothes. Change inside."

"Thanks?" Stiles said, not sure if he was supposed to be creeped out by the fact Derek knew which shoes were his or which clothes were clean in the mess that was his room. Or that he had been in his room at all. He pulled the shoes on as they headed towards the building, and carried the bag along. Looking at the receptionist at the front desk, he leaned on the counter. "I'm here to see my dad, Sheriff Stilinski." The receptionist looked worried to see him - most likely because his father was in the critical care unit with no explanation of why he was in a deep coma. Stiles followed her through the halls until they reached Sheriff's room, and he motioned for Derek to walk in with him.

When he saw his father in the dim light of the sterile white hospital room, lying still on the hospital bed, his heart sunk in his chest. He put the bag down on the end of the hospital bed, then sat on the edge. He found his father's hand underneath one of the blankets someone had put on him, and rubbed his thumb on the back of his hand. "Hey dad," He said, staring at his father. He looked like he was just asleep, but for Stiles, even the peacefulness of his face was disturbing. "I'm here."

Derek moved into the room, letting the door shut. He made his way to one of the chairs near the wall, and sat down.

"Hey dad," Stiles said as he reached in his pocket, realizing he had walked past security with a weapon. "I brought your gun back. Bastards took it." He dug it out of his pocket, but didn't know where to put it, so he sat there with it in one hand and the other holding his dad's hand. "Guess I probably should have left it in the car and given it to you at home." He sighed when his one-sided conversation continued to be one-sided. In the absence of responses, his mind wandered to a time he didn't want to remember: visiting his mother in her hospital room. He didn't remember it all too well and he wasn't sure if it was this very hospital, but every inch of the room reminded him of something he abhorred.

"Stiles," Derek said finally, breaking his silence. "We should probably go."

"Yeah," Stiles said as he pulled his hand away from his father's, and then set the gun down on the bed-stand as he grabbed the bag of clothes. "Wait out in the hall would you? I'm going to change."

Derek pursed his lips as he stood to his feet, and then walked out the door and shut it firmly behind him.

Stiles glanced over his shoulder, making sure the other had left. He pulled the jacket off of himself, and then he dropped the pants in a heap on the floor. He couldn't wait to get out of the clothes simply because he was so angry at the Walcotts that he didn't want any reminders. Picking both of the articles up, he shoved them in the hospital gown basket in the corner. Then he opened the bag and pulled out a pair of boxers.

The door creaked open an inch. "Stiles, Deaton's here." Derek informed him. Stiles froze as he kept his back turned to the door. He waited a moment before he finally said loudly,

"Door, Derek. My bare ass can feel the draft, I know you didn't shut that."

The door shut with a thud.

"Bastard was probably looking at my ass." He muttered under his breath as he pulled on the boxers, then the pants and tugged on the shirt. He yanked the socks onto his feet and then slipped on his shoes. Ambling over to the door, he opened it and cordially invited everyone in with a wave.

"Come in." He said, watching as Derek moved inside, then a dark-skinned man wearing what looked like a lab coat who must have been Deaton, and finally Peter. Deaton moved to the bed and grabbed the IV drip full of saline solution and detached it, sticking in a syringe of what looked like toxic green liquid. When he had finished, he attached it again, and Stiles pointed to it. "So...that's not going to cause any horrible side effects, is it?"

"Not to my knowledge, no," Deaton gave Stiles a reassuring smile. "Your father will be fine. He'll be awake in an hour."

"Good, we can go now," Peter said, clearly bored. Derek glared at him and then motioned to Stiles.

"Stiles has that call, Peter," Derek reminded his uncle, and Peter gave Stiles a cynical look.

"Well?" He asked, and Stiles continued to look at his father. Peter pulled out his phone, and then after a minute he said, "It's been a whole minute, Stiles. Are you waiting for him to get up and sing show tunes? Just let the medicine do the work and let's move on to more important things."

Stiles turned quickly to glare at Peter. "Nothing is more important than my father being okay. You're like some sort of pharmacist or medical person, right?" He asked Deaton, and Deaton smiled.

"You could say that, yes."

"Can you watch him? I'm trusting you." Deaton nodded, and then Stiles pointed to Sheriff. "This is my dad. I don't have to remind you people I only have one dad, and just so you know, he **is** my last remaining family. If he dies," He started, about to enter another spiel to stir them into making sure Sheriff made it. But the thought of his dad dying made Stiles freeze in place, overwhelmed by even considering the possibility. He looked at his dad, and then walked over to his bedside and leaned over to kiss him on the head. "You better wake up," He whispered, and then he stood upright and walked towards the door. He paused to glare at Peter again, who was using his phone.

"You should probably stay away from deep water, because your heart is a rock and you would sink to the bottom and drown."

Peter gave him a skeptical gaze in return. He opened the door and didn't hold it for the two Hales trailing after him as he made his way back to the parking lot.


	22. Assembling the Pack

"If you touch that dial one more time Derek, you're walking."

"It's too loud," Derek insisted, and Peter tensed up with irritation. Back in Black by ACDC drifted from the speakers.

"Birdbrain back there is too loud whenever he opens his mouth. This, this song is a classic. It can't ever be too loud. Car thief, is it too loud for you back there?"

"Actually, asshole, I can barely hear it," Stiles shot back with a look of bafflement on his face, as if it was a trick question.

"See, it's perfect volume." Peter continued driving, letting the music blare softly. Derek finally reached over and dug the cassette tape out of the car, then threw it out the window. Peter glared at Derek as he veered into the right hand lane, then turned into the motel. "You better find that later."

"You can find it yourself. Stiles, let's go in. Motel room 5." They climbed out of the car, and Peter still gave Derek a pressing leer from across the roof of the car. Stiles walked out towards the motel, followed by Derek. When they reached the room, Derek motioned for Peter to use the key to open it.

Peter stood there, his hands in his pockets.

"Peter, open the door." Derek said with annoyance, and motioned towards the door. Peter shrugged.

"I gave my key to Gramma. Talia has the other." Derek rolled his eyes at the excuse, and then rapped his knuckles on the door loudly. Talia opened the door and let them in.

At first, Stiles wasn't sure this place was even hospitable. He could see why Derek wanted to keep Luna at his house - there were clothes everywhere. Not only that, but the amount of stuff was amazing. They had only been here a short while and somehow this place looked like they had lived in it for three months. Stepping over an abandoned crumpled bag from McDonalds, he looked at Derek, and Derek motioned for him to sit on one of the double beds. He moved to where he saw Cora sitting, and sat near her. She gave him a smirk. "You look afraid."

"No, I'm actually just thinking," Stiles commented idly, looking around. Cora looked at him with vague interest.

"About what?"

"How your family didn't have more house fires if this is how you live. You know this place is clearly a fire hazard?" Cora rolled her eyes at Stiles' observation.

"Are you offering to clean, Stiles," Peter asked as he threw a bag on the floor, sitting in the chair it had been resting on previously. He crossed his legs and leaned back. "Because if you're not, shut your trap."

Stiles glared at Peter, and Talia chuckled.

"I apologize for the mess. We haven't been using this place more than a way-station. Now, Stiles." She pulled another chair up to him, and sat down in front of him. Derek walked over to the mini-fridge and started digging around for something. "We need to know what you know. Do you remember who you saw? I'm sure it wasn't just the Walcotts."

"Well, no, there was a guy with a cane and sunglasses. Said he was a werewolf? And this really intimidating woman. And another guy, but I didn't look at him really, I think he was bald...Um, something about symbols..." The memory was already getting foggy, and he squinted his eyes as he put his hands together, twiddling his thumbs in thought. "...symbols, and something about the annihilation of your family? Sorry, I've got a lot on my mind. And I'm trying to block out that whole thing already." His eyes fell on Derek, who had retrieved a cup of yogurt from the fridge and now was moving towards the other bed. He leaned down and picked up a snoozing Luna, who flopped onto his chest with little resistance.

"Stiles, did they mention anything else?" Talia pried gently, smiling at Stiles' attention to the baby. "Can you remember?"

"Um...not really, they said I was useless and threw me at the Walcotts. It's not the first time someone's said that so it's not shocking, but then they did their...creature thing," He watched as Derek pried the lid off with his teeth, and then nuzzled Luna's cheek with his nose. The baby scrunched up her face at being woken up, but after a brief grumpy gaze she noticed Derek, and smiled.

"Stiles, attention," Stiles jumped as Peter threw a balled up pair of socks at his head. The ball hit his forehead and bounced off onto the floor.

"Hey! No, really! That's all I know."

"If it was Deucalion, he's increased his pack size again," Talia said with a frown, looking over at Peter. "They must have thought Stiles was a weak link and tried to get information about the crests. I never shared the more intricate ones with him. Thank you, Stiles. We'll discuss this later without you present, because we don't want to put you in any further danger."

"Wait, I can help. My dad's the Sheriff. Trust me, I'm useful," Stiles said with a sudden intrigue, not liking that he was suddenly being cut out of the information exchange on what was going on.

"It's too dangeorus," Talia cautioned as she stood up. "Derek, after you feed Luna, you should probably leave her with Gramma. We need to go talk with Alicia."

"You really think that ragtag misfit group is going to help us? They've been a pain in our ass ever since they started grouping together." Peter said with a great amount of skepticism, standing up. "Look, what we need to do is take out the Alpha pack. Forget all the other packs, we can do this by ourselves."

"Peter," Derek's mother warned, obviously not even entertained by Peter's suggestion.

"Don't 'Peter' me, I know what the situation is. Even with Gramma sick, we can do a lot more than sit in a motel waiting for them to come to us. Or going to talk to a bunch of children and see if they want to enlist. They're not going to, Talia. Our connections have all soured, we don't hold any weight anymore."

Stiles looked at Gramma, who didn't say anything to Peter's comment. Her expression looked remorseful as she looked at a wall.

"Peter, we don't have the numbers anymore to handle a full fledged attack," Talia explained, standing up to look the other in the eyes. They were inches from each other.

"We have the four of us. And Laura, if she ever quits being selfish and returns to the group. It was a mistake letting her go out of state, Talia." He moved closer to the other, and Stiles looked at Cora, then Derek. He wasn't sure if someone should be getting in between the two to stop what looked like a potentially huge conflict. "Ever since your husband was killed by that hunter, everything you've done has weakened our group. We can't be separated at times like these. I disagree with your tactic of trying to pacify this situation. It didn't work a few months ago, and it won't work now. We all will be dead by next year."

Even Luna was quiet as she watched the interaction. Stiles looked at Derek, who seemed as if he wanted to put the baby down and strangle Peter.

"Peter!" Talia said, then shoved him back. "Leave."

He put up his hands, and then said without a hint of disagreement, "Gone." He stomped towards the door, and then flung it open. "We can't survive peacefully, Talia. It was a good dream for while it worked. But we need to fight, even if all we have is two alphas and four betas. And I'd prefer if we fought before we lost anymore of this pack." He slammed the door shut, making Stiles jump as he held the edge of the bed. Everyone was silent as Talia turned and looked towards the door, and then looked back at Gramma.

"Momma..." Talia said quietly, and Gramma put up her hand to stop her from saying anything.

"I am a weak link, Talia," Gramma said with a quiet tone. "I don't hide anything about my restrictions."

Stiles looked around, trying to feel like he belonged there. Unfortunately, the more the family interacted, the less he felt like he fit in.

"Even with your restrictions, you're indispensable. Now, Cora, Derek. We're going to meet with Alicia as we planned. Gramma, can you handle Luna?"

There was a pause, but Gramma nodded. Stiles looked at the older woman, feeling a familiar sense of sadness.

"Well, Luna's already staying at my place. And now that I know what's going on, sort of," Stiles said as he hurriedly stumbled over his words, "Maybe, I could give Gramma a break and watch Luna? I mean, if you want, Gramma..." He felt sort of awkward calling her Gramma when he wasn't her 'gramboy', "You can rest in the guest room at my place. I mean, it's the least I can do after what you've all done for me, with saving my life and...all that."

"That's an extremely generous offer, Stiles, but..." Talia hesitated, but Derek walked over with the now partially yogurt-sticky baby and put her in Stiles' arms. Stiles smiled at her when she looked happy at him holding her again.

"He can handle her." He said as he turned to Talia, throwing the yogurt container and plastic spoon in the overflowing garbage can from a distance.

"If it's all right with you, Derek...thank you, Stiles. Are you certain? Your father is still recovering."

"Nm-nbm," Stiles said as Luna grabbed his lips, giggling. He tickled her to get his lips free. "No problem. I can handle it." Deep down he wasn't sure if he could, but he almost felt obligated to watch the kid so Gramma could rest.

"All right," Talia said, motioning for Derek to take Stiles, Gramma and the baby to Stiles' house. She tossed him the keys to the rental and then turned to Cora and started whispering something. Stiles lifted Luna up, carrying her as he followed Derek out the door. When they were all buckled into the car and Luna in her car seat, Stiles stared at Derek and Gramma from the back seat, casually letting Luna play with his hand as the car rolled into motion.

He wondered what was wrong with Gramma. It seemed like everyone else was extremely healthy - almost too healthy - including the baby.


	23. Dangers of Moon Gazing

"So Gramma, if you need anything, I'll be right downstairs. Like, I don't have any of those panic buttons they have advertised on TV for the elderly but if you call I'll just be a stairway away, okay?" Stiles said, a bit concerned about having her stay there. She might have been a bad ass grandma who could morph into a wolf; but hearing that she was sick with something he didn't know, it made him worried. She gave him a humored smile, and then sat on the guest bed. She patted the quilt next to her.

"Come here, Stiles." She said with a relaxed tone, and Stiles glanced over his shoulder. Derek was downstairs with Luna, waiting for him to come back down. With only a moment of hesitation, he stepped over to where she was on the bed and sat next to her. She put her hand on his shoulder, rubbing gently with her thumb as she looked at him, eyes locked. "I like you. You remind me of my granddaughter in law, Paige. She's gone now, but I see a similar spark in your eyes as I did in hers. I think that's why that child downstairs loves you so much. You are a living memory for her. And regardless of what you might decide to do in the future, I have endless respect for you because you brought a smile back to my grandson's face and my great granddaughter's. That is a task that few could do."

Stiles squinted his eyes as he looked at the floor, trying not to interrupt the old woman even though he had plenty of questions brewing inside of him. She moved her hand off of his shoulder. "I may look frail, but I'm perfectly capable of taking care of myself. So I don't want you to worry needlessly over me. Let me rest."

The short demand made the warm fuzzy moment that he had sensed earlier end abruptly. He got up off the bed and pursed his lips shut, and then closed the door behind him as he left. _Wow_, he thought as he mused over the incident in his head, almost jogging down the steps. The entire Hale family had the same straightforward approach. It really shouldn't have taken him by surprise by now, but the abrasiveness still took some getting used to.

His eyes fell on Derek in the living room, where he sat with Luna. She was playing with a bunch of large legos, sticking them together and then pulling them apart. Stiles walked over and sat down, only giving a brief glance at Derek. Suspiciously, Derek tilted his head.

"What, did Gramma say something?" He inquired, and Stiles merely shrugged off the inquiry.

"No, she's tired," Somehow he automatically assumed anything regarding Paige he should probably keep low key around Derek. "Are you going now?"

"Trying to shove me out the door so you can play with my daughter, huh?" Derek said as he pushed himself effortlessly off the floor, looking at Luna. She looked up at him with an air of innocence, her eyes wide as she hugged a blue block to her chest. "Now, we discussed what she shouldn't do while I'm gone. We're really trying to break her of her habit of biting. If she bites you, call me. It won't hurt you because she's not an alpha, but it'll still hurt like a son of a bitch."

"Wait, alpha-hold on, I don't have your number. I also...I think my phone is out in my jeep." He got up and put up a hand for Derek to hold his thought, and then grabbed the keys from the key rack and went out to his jeep. It was in his gym bag in the back, where he had been sticking it for awhile during classes so he didn't get in trouble for it ringing. "Okay," He muttered, retrieving it and walking inside. "It's like at 5% battery but give me your number." Derek grabbed the phone once Stiles had unlocked it, and plugged in his contact information before handing it back.

"Alpha. Alpha is the pack leader. Our pack has two alphas, Gramma and my mom. If you're bit by an alpha, you change in a werewolf. Betas are the rest of the pack, and being bit by a beta won't turn you. But her teeth are extremely sharp. Make sure she doesn't get startled- she's very sensitive to loud sounds." He motioned to her playing with the blocks. "She's pretty quiet though. Like I was."

"Okay, well, I think I can handle playing with blocks. You should probably get out of here before your family wonders if you skipped out on them." Stiles said as he sat down on the floor, looking at his phone. Scott had texted him a lot of times, and left a bunch of voicemails.

"Stiles." Derek insisted, and Stiles looked up at him with a questioning glance. "Luna can move pretty fast so you probably shouldn't spend a lot of time on your phone."

"Okay, jeez, I was just checking where Scott went." He said with a scoff. "There's a few unknown numbers too, the hospital is probably trying to reach me on updates about my dad. Look, I can handle this baby, okay? She's fine. She's been great all the other times I watched her. We've got a bond, okay?"

Derek grimaced, as if he really didn't believe that their bond was solid enough for the baby not to go completely wild the minute her father left the house. He finally sighed, and then headed towards the door. "If you need something, text me, okay? Don't call, because we'll be in a meeting. And don't let her watch too much TV, it makes her moody." Stiles waved Derek's requests away as he left, and let out a breath of relief.

"Your dad was all over my ass, Luna," Stiles said to the baby, and she looked up, eyes full of wonderment. He looked contemplative for a moment before he reached over for a block. "Actually, I'm really glad you don't understand the language yet because that could've been taken more than one way." She slowly put a block in her mouth, sucking on it as she listened to Stiles, watching him with peaked curiosity. He looked at her for a moment, then started building with the blocks a tiny house.

"Look at it! It's cute, right?" He said with forced enthusiasm, and she observed the house with vague interest. Taking the moment to look at his phone again, he got up and walked over to the kitchen to plug it in. On his way, he glanced up at the wall where the iron rod had been embedded during the encounter with Derek - someone had patched it with white puddy. "Huh. Wow, I wonder who did that." With mild wonder, he walked with the phone as he sent Scott a message, "**Baby watching. Long story. Come over? I'm okay.**" As he stuck the cord in the bottom of the phone, he heard a loud crash. A surge of panic rushed through him as he practically flew into the living room again.

"Luna!" He exclaimed as he looked at the blocks, which were all over the room. She was sitting there with a mystified look on her face, even though she clearly decimated the block house Stiles had made. One of the blocks had knocked over a picture and it had fallen off the table onto a metal floor vent.

"What did you do?" He asked as he walked over, picking up the picture and setting it face down on the table again. He bent down to pick her up, and then looked at her with an inquisitive gaze. "You're like the shehulk, aren't you? Like destroying stuff, huh?" He bounced her a few times as she smiled in response, and then gripped his shirt with her tiny hands. "My little charmer. Okay, let's go play some games. I think you'll like kirby. He's a little pink ball of love. Kind of like you." He puffed out his cheeks looking at her, and her eyes got wide. "And he looks like this," He said with his puffed out cheeks, walking with her. She giggled, then patted his cheek as he deflated with an exhale.

Setting her down on the couch, he grabbed his Wii mote, put in the game and sat down next to her. "Wait until you see this. Dad's not here to supervise so what harm will a little TV do, huh? Video games don't count. Kids love video games. Video games are good for you." He looked at the TV, waiting for it to load. As the intro loaded, he had forgotten to adjust the volume and the theme song blasted from the speakers. He felt a shuffle next to him, and he glanced down to see an extremely hairy baby frozen in place looking absolutely petrified.

"What-no! Don't," He said as he put down the controller. He grabbed the TV remote and turned the sound down, and then looked at her and couldn't help but laugh. Her ears were now pointed like an elf's, and her hair just so...poofy. Even her hands had tiny little claws that she was digging into the furniture. Was this supposed to be terrifying? Why did Derek think this was scary? "No, no, it's not scary, Luna," He coaxed as he tried prying her claws off the fabric. "It's a video game. Look, it's a cute pink thing. It inhales stuff. Like you and napkins." As the music opening rift kept repeating, Luna started a low guttural growl. He grabbed the remote and put it on mute. Getting down on his knees in front of the couch, he looked at her with his head tilted.

"How do I get you off this couch? You're like velcro. I have a permanent velcro baby now." He reached over and pet her head, and her lip quivered. "Aww...I feel so bad, I ruined kirby for you. I'm sorry. Let me get you off this cushion, okay? We can snuggle a little." She slowly eased up her grip, those little clawed hands reaching up speedily towards him as he stood. Leaning down and picking her up carefully, he sat back on the couch. He cradled her in his arms, rubbing her back comfortingly. "I'm sorry, I should have remembered to turn it down." He reached over and got the remote, setting her facing towards the TV on his lap. "Look, we won't turn on the sound."

She watched, still furry as ever as he went through the opening. Stiles was convinced that this was the perfect baby game as she watched with almost sinful fascination as he went through a level. "See, it's great." He said out loud, moving through the level. She reached out her clawed hand to bat at the band that was flopping around needlessly, since Stiles didn't like having the Wii mote attached to his wrist. "Yeah, see, you even like the controller. Look, look at that thing! Oh, I totally got it, did you see that?" She turned to look at his face, but his eyes were glued on the screen. They stayed that way for thirty minutes as he climbed through the levels. Finally she let out a huff and he looked down at her, finding she was no longer furry.

"Oh, you de-wolfed. I kind of was attached to you with all that fur." He chuckled as he put down the Wii mote, and then pet her head. She gave him a sleepy look, and fell lazily against his arm. As she rested there limply, he thought of his phone and wondered if Scott had responded. That and he wanted to know if the hospital had updates on his father.

"Hmm..." He moved her off of his lap, and then put a pillow under her head as she snuggled up to the corner of the armrest. "You just wait a second, okay? I'll be back." He rose to his feet and strode into the other room, looking at his phone.

"**Coming over in hour, job paper crap, hide napkins**," He read out loud, and then laughed as he typed back a response. "**She's sleeping. Napkins are a no-issue. See you in a bit**." He put the phone down, grinning as he shook his head. "Never going to let him live that one down." After listening to a few voicemails from his dad, he finally came to the conclusion his dad was okay, but it'd be another two hours before they let him go home. That, and he left a loaded gun in his hospital room and his dad assured him they were going to talk about gun safety when he got home. Fantastic. Abandoning the phone on the counter, he walked back into the living room and looked at the couch.

No baby.

"...wait, what," He said as he walked over, and looked under the pillow like she was small enough to hide under there. "Luna?" He glanced towards the windows, noticing how dark it was already. _Oh god_, he thought as he rushed around the room, lifting objects. _I lost the baby when it's getting dark_. Even in his dismay he remembered Gramma was upstairs, and he didn't want to disturb her. "Luna? Luna, come here," he said as he searched, looking under the chair. "Luna? I have cookies, you like cookies, don't you? Fuck, I've lost the baby. How does someone lose a whole baby? This is karma. Karma for laughing at Scott for losing the baby."

He stared around the room, then tried going around the entire downstairs. He had scouted through the first level of the house before he realized she must have climbed the steps. "How the hell did she climb the steps in that amount of time," He muttered as he crept upstairs, sneaking past the closed door of the guest room. He checked the bathroom, then his father's room before he looked towards his own room. The door had been left ajar. If she wasn't in there, she was outside.

"If she's outside I am so dead," He said to himself as he walked through the door, looking inside.

There on his bed was a tiny little figure staring out the window at the rising moon. She had her little neck craned as she stared, her hands kneading one of Stiles' blankets mindlessly. Not wanting to disturb her, he slowly entered, shutting the door behind him. Sitting on the edge of the bed, he looked at her. Her green eyes shined almost mesmerized as she stared out at the sky, watching it change. Her little dark curls framed her face, her back hunched slightly. She hadn't even noticed him sitting so close. "Hey," He said quietly, petting the blanket near her but not her directly. She didn't respond.

"You're really a wolf, huh? Staring at the moon?" He said softly, almost sympathetically as he smiled. There was something just adorable about this child so in tune with nature. He glanced towards the window, enjoying the view of hazy pink and orange from his window. The moon was bright, but the sun was still setting. "It's pretty isn't it?" He looked back at her, and she hadn't moved an inch. "You know you're going to get a neck cramp, Luna," he advised worriedly, his hand finally moving to touch her cheek gently.

And that's when it happened. She turned and bit right into his wrist, clamping down like a bear trap. The pain surged through his body and he yelped in shock, trying to shake her mouth off as he yanked his hand away. She looked at him, slightly dazed. "What the- Luna, wha-" He held his injured hand in his other, shaking as he looked at the amount of blood exiting the wound. "You bit me! You just bit me! Luna, that hurt like hell! Bad baby! Bad, bad baby!" She whined as she watched him stand up, frantically searching for cloth. He grabbed a shirt and wrapped his hand in it, watching as the blood drenched the shirt in a second. "Oh my god, I'm going to die," he panicked. He almost went out the door, but he noticed Luna's eyes were watering as she stared at him, clearly afraid.

"Why are you crying? You bit me!" He almost yelled, and she whimpered in response. Grabbing her in his non-maimed arm, he ran down the steps with her, getting blood on the wall as he ran his hand along it to balance. "I can't believe you bit me. You bit me and you're crying. I should be crying but I'm in shock." He rushed to the kitchen, set her down on the table and then grabbed his phone. With his free hand, he punched in a text to the number Derek had left him. "**baby bit. help. bleeding. lots.**" he sent it, and then tightened his grip on the shirt, watching as Luna sniffled on the table.

"I feel that way," He said grumpily, lightheaded feeling setting in. "Great. I should've gotten Gramma on the way down. I'm going to pass out and you'll probably eat me when I'm KO'ed on the floor, right? Biting is bad, Luna," He scolded her, looking at the phone. Why wasn't Derek responding? His wolf spawn just bit him and he was out having a joyride with his family. Angrily he shot another text at Derek. "**bleeding is severe asshole help**" He sent it, gritting his teeth as he tried to remain standing. Now he was leaning on the counter for support. The blood was tacky on the shirt, but fresh stuff was still spilling out underneath. As he tried to manage it by moving to a non-bloodied part of the shirt over the wound, he heard a ping.

"What...'**i can't help with your asshole without consent but the bleeding I can**'? I'm fucking bleeding out and your dad is making jokes about my lack of a comma. What a fucking asshole!"

He looked at Luna, who had slumped over in a defeated heap on the table, looking at him pitifully. With a frown, Stiles moved to her, suddenly feeling guilty she looked so dejected. "No, it's not your fault, you didn't know it was a vital vein location," He attempted at comforting her, sitting down at the table. "I'll be okay, all right? Don't look at me like that. You look like a sad little puppy. Wait, you are a sad little puppy. Come on now, just smile."

She gazed at him with those large green eyes, then moved to where his maimed hand was resting on the table. She laid flat on her stomach as she put her head on the bloody shirt. He would've objected for sanitary reasons if he hadn't been so dizzy from blood loss. "What are you doing, you crazy little creature?" It didn't occur to him that as she laid there, his pain was lifting even though the blood was still seeping. He heard the front door open and he heard the person walk evenly into the kitchen where he was.

"I told you she bit, what did you do?" Derek asked as he moved Luna off of Stiles arm, and then looked at it. "I'm going to have to do something to stop the bleeding."

"What are you going to do, cauterize the wound?" Stiles said skeptically, and Derek moved to grab a kitchen towel and pressed it on the wound. Extremely hard.

"No, I'm going to stop it with a towel. Do I look like I walk around with a cauterizing iron?" He asked, raising his eyebrow as he looked at Stiles. "You look like shit."

"I'm sorry, my blood loss diet isn't doing anything for my self image," Stiles said scathingly, looking at Luna as she looked at Derek with a frown. Derek stared at her with an authoritative presence, and she didn't dare move a muscle.

"She's usually better then this. I can't believe she went for a vein," He said with an almost baffled look on his face as he tied the kitchen rag around Stiles' wrist extremely tight. "It's letting up, but leave that on there. I'll go get Gramma, she'll be able to help more."

"Well she was looking out the window," He said tiredly as he stood up slowly, and then motioned to the nearby back door. "At the moon or something."

"Oh. You interrupted that. Yeah, I probably should have mentioned she has a thing," Derek said as he lifted Luna off the table, kissing the top of her head as she curled into his embrace. Stiles stared at Derek with a dead set stare.

"...what thing."

"Well, this thing where she likes moon gazing. You're not supposed to interrupt it, she'll eventually come out of it. It's like a baby trance."

"You left me with a werewolf baby and you didn't mention I'm not supposed to poke her when she's moon gazing?" Stiles remarked loudly, his voice tense. "You left that giant part out? Instead of telling me she gets moody with TV you failed to mention, 'oh by the way, my baby will tear your hand off if you interrupt her moon gazing'?"

Derek shrugged, giving an inconspicuous shrug. "Didn't think of it. It was light out when I left her."

"Oh. It wasn't light out. I get it. Next time, give me a damn manual, okay?" Stiles said as he started following Derek out of the room after he motioned him to move. Obviously he had detected Stiles wouldn't stop complaining, but obviously wanted him to see Gramma before he passed out. "Because apparently your definition of vital information wildly differs from my version. Because I probably wouldn't have left out the one thing that could've killed the babysitter tonight," He gripped the railing as they went up, his other hand to his chest.

"You're alive," Derek offered as some sort of optimistic gesture. Stiles glared at Derek's back.

"Barely. **_Asshole_**."


	24. Idle Threats

"Why do we have to see Gramma," Stiles asked as Derek opened the guest room door, his fingers still wrapped around his bleeding hand. He had a cold sweat building on his forehead from the loss of blood, and he was feeling extremely nauseated.

"Because Alphas have the ability to heal." Derek said without further explanation as he walked in, and then strode evenly over to the bed and sat on the edge. "Gramma, you awake?"

"How could I sleep with all that racket," Gramma said with a mumble, lifting her hand up but she kept her back turned towards them. "Come, Stiles."

Stiles hesitated, looking suspiciously at Derek and then Gramma. From what he remembered about werewolves there was nothing in there about 'healing'.

"Like, what are the after effects of this healing thing," He asked, and Derek rolled his eyes, kissing Luna's head before he commented.

"Stiles, don't be dumb. Just let her heal you."

"I'm serious, what are the side effects."

"Not being dead," Derek said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. Gramma gave an indignant huff as she pulled herself up, grumbling under her breath as she got off the bed. Stiles stepped back at first, but she was quick to grab his wrist with a jarring motion.

"Wa-wait, not-" Stiles protested, but Gramma shushed him abruptly. She closed her eyes and he kept quiet, feeling the pain leave his arm and a cooling numbness emerge in its place. After a minute, she sighed and moved away, putting up her arms towards Derek. Without so much as an objection, Derek passed her Luna. Luna smiled at Gramma, a little coo sounding from her lips as she curled into the woman's chest.

"Take him elsewhere and leave me and Luna to ourselves. We'll take a nap."

"Okay, Gramma," Derek said, moving off of the bed. He motioned for Stiles to follow him. Stiles was too busy looking at his wrist, which was healed to the point of scarring. In his astonishment, he hardly noticed Derek's hand go towards his shirt. He did however feel the yank of the other's hand as he tugged him out of the room by his sleeve. "Don't piss off Gramma." He scolded Stiles as he shut the door behind them, and Stiles gave him an offended glare.

"Don't piss off Gramma? Okay, I get it," Stiles said as he looked at Derek, and Derek turned away to go down the steps. Stiles followed. "Did you guys do what you needed to do?" Derek didn't say anything as he stepped into the living room, walking over to the couch and falling back on it. He looked comfy within a matter of seconds as he reclined, looking over at Stiles.

"Yeah." Derek said, looking up and down at Stiles. "There a reason you're still holding the bloody shirt?"

Stiles opened his mouth, but really he didn't have a comeback. He shut it quickly and walked out of the room, throwing it in the kitchen wastebasket. By the time he rounded the corner back into the living room, Derek had turned on the television, which was still the screen of the Kirby game Stiles had been playing.

"So you played video games with her when I said television made her grouchy," Derek observed as he picked up the Wii mote that was on the couch. He unfroze the game and started playing. Stiles stared for a moment, and then raised his eyebrows.

"It's a game. She was entertained. Look, I don't have siblings. I said I could handle her but clearly I need an Idiot's Guide to babysitting." Stiles moved to the couch, sitting on the other side of it as he watched Derek play. The guy was pretty good at video games, his hand-eye coordination must have been perfect. "You're pretty good at this...uh, you play a lot?" He asked, trying to make casual conversation.

Derek didn't take his eyes off the screen. "Nope. Don't own a Wii."

Stiles looked over at Derek with a critical amount of skepticism. He had to be lying. No one was this good and never played. "Friends house?"

"Played one at a Target once," He finally said, beating the level. The other looked over at Stiles with a slight smirk. Stiles squinted at him and then pointed at the Wii.

"You've played it once and you're that good." He stated, and then looked at Derek with a serious expression. "You have to turn me into a werewolf, this seems like it's the ultimate cheat code and I need this."

"You don't want it," Derek said with a sigh, shutting off the Wii and then switching off the television with the remote. He put the pair of remotes on the coffee table in front of them and then fell back on the couch, looking at the blank television set. Stiles took this as a sign Derek was contemplating his request, and he moved towards the other, studying his face closely.

"Now, try to fill me in on the bad parts of whatever you and your family are. Super strong, super fast, amazing hand-eye coordination, great at everything, basically," He was ticking off each of the positives on his fingers. "Then there's the whole healing thing, and I don't really get it but how is any of this bad?"

"Because you don't know all of it, Stiles," Derek said shortly, and Stiles froze in his spot. The other's tone had gone from pleasant to serious, and he could tell that whatever information he was trying to pry out of Derek- it was making him extremely angry. It made Stiles think twice of starting on the same topic again, but the curiosity was already there and it was growing even with the negative responses from Derek.

"So tell me all of it. How does one become a werewolf? You said a bite, right? Alpha bite?"

"I don't want to talk about it right now. Switch topics," Derek said as he looked away, staring at the photographs on the wall. Stiles didn't switch topics.

"Why, what's wrong with this one? Your mom said I should ask you about what I need to know. I'm asking you because I should probably know."

"It's not important right now. You're pissing me off." Derek warned him, giving him a pointed glare again.

"I don't care if it pisses you off, I'm asking you a question because I want to know." Stiles insisted, his voice forceful as he met Derek's glare with his own. "No amount of looking at me with your- I don't know, your face-"

"What about my face?" Derek asked, still looking very displeased.

Stiles struggled to find the words, but he finally blurted out, "I don't know, you and your really expressive eyebrows. It's not deterring me from the point. Tell me about the damn turning thing."

Derek snorted at Stiles' comment, and then waved him away as he reached for the remote again. With a quick movement, Stiles grabbed the remote before the other had the chance and he sat on it. Derek looked at Stiles' ass, and then back at Stiles with his eyebrow raised inquisitively. "Really."

"I really want to know more about the werewolf thing, man. Come on. Just tell me about it."

"I told you, I'm not in the mood." Derek tried repeating calmly, but when Stiles continued to look at him expectantly, he reached under the other's ass to grab the remote. Stiles gave a loud grunt in protest as he grabbed the remote first and tossed it across the room.

"I can and will do this all night until you tell me," Stiles admitted, his voice cold. "Tell me." He could sense the other was feeling cornered, and that was always the point when he received the information he requested. It didn't matter who it was, it always worked. His method of wearing the person down never failed.

Well, until now, that was. Even though Stiles was sure Derek was about to give, the other moved closer, and then got right up to his face so their noses were almost touching. "I don't feel like it," Derek reminded Stiles, his eyes unblinking. Stiles stared, feeling the hairs on his arms prickle from the chill he was experiencing as the other moved closer.

"Well I don't give a shit." Stiles said, not backing down. He kept his eyes unblinking and they locked gazes. With tension high, Derek shoved Stiles lightly to get him to flail his arms outwards. "Hey!" He wasn't expecting the other to move even closer, making him fall on his back on the couch. As Derek pinned the other, faces still close, Stiles squinted and repeated, "I don't give a shit. You tell me or I swear-"

"You'll what?" Derek questioned, cutting into Stiles' threat. "I could rip your throat out right now. With my teeth. You would be dead in seconds. What are you going to do to me if I don't tell you?"

"I'm...well that's just rude," Stiles objected, trying to shove Derek off of him with his knees. When the other didn't budge because he was literally like a statue on top of him, he frowned. "You're a guest and you're threatening to kill me in my own house."

"You pissed me off." Derek pointed out as he looked at Stiles' lips, then back at his eyes. Stiles felt his heart skip a beat as he started squirming under the other.

"You weigh like a thousand pounds," Stiles said as he tried shoving Derek off of him, meeting great resistance to his frantic efforts to move him. "Seriously, I break easily, get off. Quit eyeing my neck. I get it, the threat's real, you're going to rip my throat out with your teeth."

"Or I could just, you know. Make out with you." Derek said halfheartedly. Stiles blinked, eyes widening.

"You...no, about that," Stiles began, and then stopped as he searched for the words to say carefully. "...you know I'm not into guys, right? I mean, there's nothing wrong with you, you're clearly a really desirable guy with your...face being like that and your perfectly sculpted body, but I'm not..."

"Interested?" Derek questioned.

"Oh, I'm not not interested, but I'm not...whatever this is, you're coming on way too strong," Stiles admitted. He could feel his cheeks reddening as he glared at Derek. "Dude, seriously. Just get off me."

Derek begrudgingly moved off the other, though he did it with a slight smirk at Stiles' comment. As he pulled away, Stiles heard a voice from behind the couch.

"Dude. I knew it!" Scott exclaimed. Stiles moved quicker than he ever had as he propped himself up on the couch, immediately objecting to Scott's comment. How long had Scott been standing there?

"Scott, no. Just no. It wasn't like that. When did you even-"

"I was standing here for like a minute, you were all focused on each other, don't be embarrassed. I mean, I'm not against two dudes being in love. I didn't want to ruin the moment." Scott looked at Stiles as he walked over and leaned on the back of the couch. Not so secretly, he whispered loudly to Stiles, "If you're breaking up with him I think you might be doing it wrong, dude."

"Scott, there was no moment," He assured him, glaring at a rather smug Derek on the other side of the couch. "He's just a dick. And breaking up? I mean, we're friends. Friends." He got up off the couch. "Well it's probably almost time to go get my dad, let's go. Scott. Just Scott. Derek, you can eat whatever you want in the fridge, just don't follow us."

"Got it." Derek smirked as he got up and walked over to fetch the remote, then sat back on the couch. "See you later Stiles."

"Yeah, whatever. Later." Stiles said as he headed for the door, grabbed his keys, opened the door and slammed it behind him. Scott opened it again and followed him out, jogging to keep up with him as he got in the jeep.

"Dude, that was..." Stiles put up his hand as Scott climbed into the vehicle, stopping him mid-sentence.

"It was gay, I know. I am fully aware of how gay that just was."

"I was going to say hot, is that weird?" Scott asked, buckling his seat belt into the catch. "I mean, I can tell the guy is hot. You got a hot guy interested in you. You should be proud. I wish I had hot people interested in me."

"Shut up, Scott," Stiles said with a sigh as he started the jeep.


	25. Bros before Werewolves

"Slow down dude, I think I just saw a deer," Scott said as Stiles drove down another country road. It made him nervous to take a back way again after what happened, but he really didn't want to go down the road he and his father had taken before. Stiles slowed down, easing up on the gas as he looked to the side of the road.

"You're pretty quiet," He observed after awhile, and Scott glanced towards him with a shrug.

"Just saw my best friend almost making out with a guy, I'm still trying to wrap my brain around it."

"Look, we weren't almost 'making out'," Stiles argued as he sped up a little after he was sure they were past the deer area. "The guy is just...I don't know. Look, I still have a crush on Lydia Martin, and I'm not sure getting into a relationship with this guy will make those feelings go away."

His friend gave him a questioning glance. "Still? I thought you got over her in fifth grade," Scott commented, looking out the window. "Well, she's with Jackson, and has been for a really damn long time."

"I know," Stiles said, glaring at the road. "Don't remind me. Jackson doesn't deserve her."

"I mean, do you find him cute? I don't know, he just..." Scott paused. "...I'd miss...boobs."

"I don't really care about the physical parts of people Scott, though...yeah, boobs are nice," He pursed his lips as he slowed to make a turn on red. "I don't know, I just want someone who gets me. And yeah, this guy is really hot, but he's also a huge douchebag. I don't know if there's anything there right now besides my contempt for the situation honestly." He frowned. Inside, he could feel the uncertainty building even though he was trying to be straightforward about how he felt. It occurred to him he hadn't told Scott anything about the Hales, and he slowly looked over at Scott. Scott caught the odd glance Stiles was giving him.

"What? What, do I have crumbs on my face?" Stiles waved his comment off, and shook his head.

"No, it's just..." Stiles began, voice wavering for a moment. What if the Hales didn't want Scott to know? Was he safe to talk to? What if Scott got pulled into this mess, and it was Stiles' fault? The longer he waited to continue, Scott grew more suspicious of what Stiles was hiding.

"Yeah?" Scott prodding slightly as Stiles bit his lower lip.

"Well, they're...something," Stiles said cautiously, and Scott looked confused.

"Who's what?"

"The Hales, Scott...they're like...werewolves."

"...wait, what?" Scott asked right after, not sure he heard Stiles correctly.

"Werewolves. Like Halloween, full moon, furry creatures of the night werewolves."

Scott was quiet for a moment before he leaned over and whispered in a hushed tone, "Stiles, are you doing weed?"

"No! Scott, I'm serious." He slowed down, driving slowly in the parking lot by the hospital. "I'm serious. They're werewolves. All of them, apparently. I saw Luna do it, and the old lady and his mother turned into actual wolves. It's real."

"Really?" Scott repeated, dazed. "...that's awesome."

"Really?" Stiles questioned as he parked, looking at Scott curiously. "You really think that's cool?"

"Yeah, I mean, if werewolves are real, then that means-"

"No, Scott. Don't you dare say it."

"It totally means fairies are almost real, dude. I'm that close. Tinkerbell is hot, Stiles, I don't get why you can't see that." Scott grinned as he pushed Stiles playfully, unbuckling his seat belt. Stiles slid his hands down his face, groaning.

"I can't believe you said that. I feel crazy. Are you just making fun of me?"

"Dude, no, I believe you. But if they're werewolves, maybe we should get some silver bullets or something." He opened the door a crack, then looked back at Stiles. "You look kind of sad about that, but dude, if you're serious...shouldn't you protect yourself? You don't know what they're capable of."

"I know, you're right...but the baby," He said, looking down at his arm. The scar was still there where she bit into his arm. Rubbing it sentimentally, he glanced at Scott, who watched him.

"...did the baby bite you? Dude, what is that? You didn't have that yesterday."

"Well, yeah..." Stiles said, shrugging. "She's a baby though." Scott grabbed Stiles' arm, letting go of the door. It stayed ajar. As he looked at Stiles' arm, and put his finger over the wound, he gave Stiles a baffled look.

"What happened?"

"She bit me and his grandmother like, healed it, but I guess not all the way."

"Healed it?" Before, Scott had been a little less worried. Now however, his face expressed clear concern over what was going on with his friend. "Dude. Okay, before we get your dad you have to tell me you're going to stay away from the Hales. I mean, I thought they were protecting you from the weirder shit like cannibals but if the kid is biting you..."

"Scott, you don't get it," He said as he tugged his arm away, "The Walcotts were wendigos. And the kid was a kid, she might be a werewolf but she didn't understand what would happen. She actually cried more than I did after she bit me. And the healing thing, well, I don't get it either but I'm not dead. Look, I'm in too deep, I already tried getting out and you saw how that went."

"Stiles, if you tell your dad that you're friends with werewolves and the Walcotts were wendigos, you're going to end up in Eichen house." Scott lowered his voice. "I'm not going to let that happen, dude. We need to figure this out and get things back to normal. I mean, look at this scar, you can tell something human bit you!" He started taking off his jacket, and then shoved it at Stiles. "Here, wear it."

"Scott,"

"No, dude, you're my best friend. You're not ending up at Eichen house, I don't care if they put me there too. I'm going to help you with this. From now on, you tell me everything, and I'll hang out with you and the Hales."

"So I guess you're against me dating Derek, then," Stiles said idly, and Scott gave him a far from amused look. "Sorry," Stiles apologized as they both climbed out of the jeep and he put on Scott's jacket. "I thought it would be funny, but it was a lot funnier in my head."


	26. Ruined Milk

"I'll be in my room if you need me, dad," Stiles reassured his father, hanging onto the door frame as he looked into his dad's bedroom. On one hand, he didn't want to leave his father alone, but on the other hand Sheriff Stilinski did like his 'me-time' to destress. Sheriff smiled at Stiles, then gave him a rather puzzled look as he leaned back against the pillows on his bed, sinking down under the quilt.

"So, when are the guests going to leave again? There's two, right? The baby and Derek?"

Stiles opened his mouth to respond, but honestly he didn't know when Derek planned on vacating his house. In fact, he had no idea what was going on with the Hale house - for all he knew, they could have rebuilt it already. All he knew for sure after visiting their motel room was that none of the Hales had an issue with not cleaning. "Um, I...actually, I don't know, I'll check with them. And get back to you on that." He patted the door frame with a frown, then turned to leave.

"Stiles?" His dad called after him, and he craned his head back to look over his shoulder at his father. "Make sure to wake me up if you need anything. Anything. I don't care if you think I need to rest, if something happens you wake me up."

"Yeah, I will, dad," Stiles lied, knowing fully well he wouldn't wake his father from resting even if the apocalypse had befallen the earth. He shut the door as Sheriff pulled the covers over his shoulders, laying on his side in bed. The teen sneaked down the hallway to the stairway, walking down the wooden steps as quietly as possible without making them squeak. He heard a door shut, and then open again, and then almost inaudible murmurs emitting from the kitchen. His curiosity grew as he strode through the hallway, knowing he had left only Scott and Derek in there with a sleeping Luna. Gramma, Talia and Cora had left for the motel.

"Hey," He said as he came back into the room, looking at whoever was rummaging in the refrigerator. With a sideways glance he spotted both Derek and Scott at the table, watching the person at the fridge. With a baffled look on his face, he reached over to move the fridge door to look over the top of it. There was Peter, grabbing the milk carton from the back of the fridge. "Hey, no, this guy isn't staying, right?" He asked as he turned to look at Derek skeptically. Peter straightened, shutting the fridge and cracking open the carton.

"Hey car thief," He said as he took a swig from the carton, then leaned on the counter. Stiles opened his mouth to object to the grossness of a now-communal milk carton, but the car thief comment caught his attention before he could finish.

"Once. Once, I escaped with a car. A thief is someone who intends to steal a possession, and I didn't keep your car. It got impounded." Stiles explained heatedly, reaching over to grab the carton from Peter's hand. "Don't drink out of the carton, that's disgusting!"

"Boohoo. Hey, Derek," Peter said, ignoring Stiles' protest in favor of wandering off around the counter island. "How'd the meeting go?"

Derek still seemed upset at Peter as he moved closer, but instead of avoiding the question he kissed Luna's head and responded idly, "Wouldn't know. Seemed to go well. Don't know what the end result was."

"Why? Didn't you go?"

"I..." Derek began, his eyes falling on Stiles. Stiles rolled his eyes and then looked at Scott, who shrugged.

"I didn't do anything, the baby bit me, so if you're about to blame your lack of knowledge on me, just know that you're inadvertently blaming the baby," He defended himself as he walked over to the table, pulling out a chair near Scott. Scott was on his phone, for the most part not paying attention to everyone around him.

"Oh, so you had to save princess over there," Peter said understandingly, and Stiles threw his hands in the air.

"Not a princess," He replied icily, lowering his voice. "Scott, help me out here."

Instead of helping, Scott looked up at Peter, who gave him an intimidating glare. Stiles didn't expect Derek to speak up instead of his best friend.

"Look, Talia doesn't want me talking about it," Derek explained quickly, and Peter gave him a look of disbelief. "If you wanted to know so badly you wouldn't have run off to pout like a kid. If you want to know what happened, ask her, not me. I'm not being the middle man for you. Own up to your issues with my mom and deal with them. And leave Stiles out of it, at least he was doing something helpful. Even if he did it really badly, he at least did it."

"Hey, I tried," Stiles interjected.

"Wait, so you know what happened and you're not telling me? We're going to do this now? She's my sister. We have family feuds. It's normal. Just tell me what happened so I can sleep tonight." Peter commented with a leer, dropping the carton on the counter when Derek gave him nothing more than a stare. "Yes, I rented a motel room separate from the girls. I won't see them tonight. You try living in close proximity to miss occupy-the-bathroom and Gramma, who snores so loud we got a noise complaint the first night. Let me remind you I showered at nine in the morning because 'ladies go first' and they took for-goddamn-ever. While you're over here in a spacious two story house, I'm trapped in a man's worst nightmare - to be in a single room with three women and all of them family."

"Fine," Derek caved, though he looked vaguely guilty as he did so. "Yes, they're helping us. We're good. It'll probably end in a truce like it did before."

"Good," Peter concluded as he looked around the counter, picking up a napkin out of the container and wiping his mouth. He threw it back on the counter, which got him another well-deserved glare from Stiles. "I'm going to go. Car thief doesn't seem to like having me here,"

"No, it's fine, really," Stiles said with sarcasm, "Stay and dirty everything, makes the place looked lived in. I mean, no one else wanted that milk."

"Nice utilization of sarcasm, car thief." Peter critiqued as he started off towards the front door. He gave a lazy wave as he opened the door and exited.

Stiles stared at Derek, who had preoccupied himself with looking at Luna. She was laying on his chest fast asleep. "Someone's pooped." He said in a hushed tone, looking at the baby from the side. She was sucking on her tiny thumb as she snored lightly.

"Yeah. Better take her to bed." Derek stood up from the chair, walking towards the hallway. His green eyes fell on Stiles as he turned, and he looked strained as he tried to force himself to say something. Stiles' eyebrow perked up with vague interest as he watched the other struggle internally.

"What?" Stiles asked finally, and Derek sighed.

"Sorry about Peter. He's a real asshole. Not only to you, but to everyone. There's...reasons." Derek explained slowly, as if he was hesitant to proceed with any further information. After a brief pause he uttered, "He's bitter. Well, night. Night Scott." He added, and Scott waved over his shoulder as he typed something into his phone. Stiles finally focused on his best friend now that everyone had left the main area.

"Dude, what are you doing on your phone?" He asked finally, his eyes on Scott's phone. Scott turned it off, thinking he could keep Stiles from seeing his email box. "Was that an email to a teacher?"

"Yeah. Hey, let's talk about it tomorrow, okay?" Scott said with a weak smile, then stood up. "Man, I'm fucking tired. Let's go to bed." He walked over to where he had set his mom's turquoise yoga mat rolled up leaning on the wall, picking it up with one hand. "My mom gave me this to sleep on. Says she might invest in a blow up bed, but I don't know, I mean, I don't care if I'm on the floor."

"If you want the bed, you can have it," Stiles offered immediately, suddenly realizing Scott had been doing a lot of floor time. "I don't want to hog the soft surface."

"No, dude, it's fine. The floor's better for my back." Scott assured his friend, grinning as they turned and went upstairs. Stiles hit the lights as they exited, then locked the front door. Making sure the bolt was secured, he finally padded after Scott up the steps, turning into his room with the other.

After they spent awhile getting ready for bed and assembling the sleeping area once again, Stiles flopped on his bed and yanked the sheets up to his chin. "Night dude."

"Night Stiles," Scott commented from the floor. "Hey, Stiles."

"What?" Stiles asked, peeking over the side of the bed.

"I don't have to worry about bed bugs."

Stiles smirked as he thought about the other creatures that could be crawling on the floor, but he thought quickly about the ramifications if Scott figured out he was in a potential bug-heavy zone. He'd probably lose his bed. "Yeah, Scott. No bed bugs for you. Unless they like yoga mats."


	27. Yogurt Cravings

"I can't believe I can't fall asleep," Stiles muttered under his breath, listening to Scott's painfully even snores. He rolled over to his side to look at his friend in the complete darkness. The only source of light he had was the little moonlight that indirectly hit his window, and even that the curtains blocked. With a sigh, he pulled himself to an upward position on the edge of his bed, his legs hanging over the side. If he couldn't sleep, he might as well go do something useful. Like the dishes that were piling up in the sink. Or rummage through the fridge for something edible...

His bare feet quietly padded on the wooden floor as he moved through the room. Making his way through the door, he made sure to close it quietly behind him just so Scott had his serenity in case their guests stirred. With an easygoing stride down the steps, he made his way through the hall and to the kitchen. Indeed, the dishes were piling up in the two sink basins, and he was pretty sure the dishwasher needed to be unloaded. With his lips pursed, he pointed at the dishes, then moved his hand to point at the fridge. "We have a winner," He said to himself as he ambled towards the fridge, opening it with one hand and leaning on the counter with his other.

"Yogurt...pudding cup...oh hell yeah. Go-gurts." He grabbed a blue one, and then tore it open and let the fridge door fall shut. "Mmm, I missed these. Wonder why dad bought these, he hasn't bought these in years." Stiles moved over to the table, pulling out a chair and shoved the opened end into his mouth, mindlessly staring at the wall opposite of his chair. He heard someone walking down the steps, and he glanced in the direction of the doorway. "Crap. I woke Scott." He frowned as he pinched the wrapper, squeezing yogurt upwards into his mouth before he rolled the emptied side up so it wouldn't run out on the table. He set it down, swallowing as he turned to look over the back of the chair. "Hey," He said as he heard the person come into the room. Instead of seeing who he expected, Scott - in walked Derek, completely shirtless again. He squinted at Derek as the other looked at him, lifting his eyebrows in a questioning way.

"...do you ever wear a shirt to bed?" He turned his attention back to his go-gurt as he lifted it off the tabletop. "I mean, seriously, it's gotta be cold."

"I get hot easily," Derek replied shortly, walking over to the table. He stood next to Stiles for a moment, then pulled out a chair next to him and sat down. "Why are you up?"

"I couldn't sleep," Stiles said as he squeezed the tube again, looking at Derek. "You?"

"Couldn't sleep. Luna was kicking me," Derek responded, eyeing the go-gurt. "Aren't those for kids?"

"Yeah. The coolest kids." With a slight grin he added, "I'm enjoying a flashback to my childhood here. These things are seriously like sugary crack. I fully intend on finishing the box tonight." He closed his mouth over the end, kneading the go-gurt with his lips to get the yogurt in his mouth. He noticed how focused Derek seemed to be on his mouth, so he swallowed slowly, unsure if the other was going to comment or just stare.

"You know, people watching me eat kinda makes me uncomfortable. Just throwing that out there," He stated boldly, looking towards Derek with an inquisitive stare. "You see something you like?"

"Yeah," Derek replied, leaning forward. His hand went underneath Stiles' chin, and he froze in place as he thought the other was going for his throat. The older boy grew closer yet, eyes narrowing as he licked the corner of Stiles' mouth. He stared at him for a moment as he remained unbearably close. "You had a bit of yogurt there."

Stiles could feel his body tensing, his eyes still wide at being licked. For someone shirtless, Derek seemed to be radiating heat off of him in a nauseatingly comforting way. He couldn't form any intelligible words, which made Derek smile craftily.

"What, wolf got your tongue?"

"That was such a bad play on words, just fucking awful..." Stiles said in a monotone, still staring at Derek as he abandoned the half eaten go-gurt on the table. "Just shut up and kiss me."

Standing, Derek looked at Stiles for a moment before he grabbed him by the collar of his shirt. He pulled him effortlessly off the chair and then pinned him against the fridge, swooping in with a heated kiss. His free hand ran through Stiles' short hair, his eyes closed. Stiles returned the fervor, his own hands going up to Derek's belt as he fumbled with the buckle. Derek pulled away, squinting at Stiles with a partially cryptic glance. "What are you doing?"

"Trying to undo your belt buckle. Am I reading the signs wrong?" Stiles challenged him, glaring. "What?"

"I'll tell you when I want my pants off," Derek said authoritatively, which made Stiles shudder. Something about Derek's dominating nature made him willingly excited. "But right now I want to watch you strip." He backed away to give Stiles space to disrobe. Stiles started unbuttoning his pajama shirt, his right eyebrow perked as he tried to make it sensual display. Derek tried not laughing as he looked away, covering his mouth.

"What?" Stiles frowned, his voice showing his obvious hurt. "I'm trying to be sexy, what did I do wrong?"

"Just don't make that face," Derek instructed, and Stiles balked.

"Really! I don't have any other face," Stiles replied obstinately, unbuttoning the rest of his shirt. "You're ruining the damn mood. I'm not even horny anymore but I'm taking off my goddamn shirt." He pulled his arms out of the shirt not so gracefully then pitched the article of clothing to his left.

* * *

><p>He woke up with a start. He could feel the icy prickles of goosebumps all over his sweaty bare skin as he stared at his bedroom ceiling. Evidently, he could feel that he had a serious case of morning wood. In sheer disbelief, he said out loud, "Oh my god."<p>

The room was quiet for merely a second before he heard Scott's voice say from the floor, "Oh thank god, you're fucking awake. Dude, that was so uncomfortable."

"I just...Wait, have you been awake?"

"Yeah, dude...I can't sleep through your sleep talking," Scott explained, albeit his voice was showing evident wariness. Stiles turned to Scott, making sure his blanket covered himself in the dark as he glared at Scott.

"What did I say." The interrogation made Scott throw up his left arm, completely at a loss on how to tell Stiles the uncomfortable things he overheard. "Come on, what did I say?"

"Well there was something about go-gurt, shut up and kiss me, and then you said something about undoing someone's pants...and I'm pretty sure you told me you weren't horny but you were still taking off your shirt, and then you threw your shirt at me."

In his sleepy state, Stiles had completely been unaware that his shirt was no longer on his body. He looked at his arms in the near-darkness, completely mystified how he managed to strip in his sleep.

"You have a good dream?" Scott asked, and Stiles let his arms fall to either side of him on the bed as he rolled to laying on his back.

"No. I was accosted by a dude." Stiles insisted, sounding a bit dismayed. "Scott, I think he stole my dream virginity. Of all the fucking people on this crappy planet, I finally have a wet dream about a fucking single werewolf dad. Classy."

"Dude, did you do it?" Scott seemed genuinely interested, but a little insulted like he had wanted to be invited to the party.

"No, there was no doing it. I woke up before the good part. I mean," He caught himself, stuttering. "Not the good part, you know what I mean. Look, I'm still a virgin, but he was all up in my space and with the touching and the feeling and the lack of a shirt-"

"Wait, I don't think I wanna hear about this, Stiles-"

"And I had a go-gurt, and he licked it off my face, and I really- I really want a go-gurt. Damn, we haven't had those in years. I should have known it was a dream at that point. Dad never buys yoplait anymore."

Scott sat up on the floor, then looked at Stiles with his arms extended behind him to prop himself up. "I'm confused, was this a wet dream about Derek Hale or the go-gurt?"

Stiles paused, giving the question serious thought. "I'm pretty sure it was the go-I mean, Derek Hale. Yeah. Wait, if I was talking, why didn't you wake me up?"

Scott shook his head, Stiles could almost feel Scott's hesitation. "I didn't want you to die. You know that whole thing not waking people."

"Scott, that's not for sleep talking, that's for sleep walking. I was still in bed." Stiles insisted, and Scott scowled bitterly in the darkness.

"Dude, really? Next time I'm going to tell you to keep your shirt on and pass me a damn go-gurt."


	28. Cute as Hale

"We have a problem."

What had been a peaceful breakfast was quickly ruined by the intrusion of Peter, who for some reason always knew where the spare key was for the back door. The older werewolf had stormed through the door, throwing his jacket on the back of one of the chairs. Stiles looked over from where he was next to Luna, entertaining her with balancing a spoon on his nose. As Luna kept trying to bop the spoon off his nose, Stiles said slowly, "Um, Derek's...somewhere."

"Oh. You." The tone Peter used made Stiles glare immediately in response.

"Yeah, me." He took the spoon off his nose and handed it to Luna, who banged it on the table. "Look, we're around each other a lot more, so we should work out our-"

"I don't have time for your pussyfooting around," Peter said as he walked by Stiles, flicking his forehead. Stiles flailed trying to get his hand away from him, and he scowled as Peter continued into the house.

"You're a dick," He called after him, picking up Luna and trailing after the annoying intruder. When Peter found Derek in the bathroom shaving, he pushed the door the rest of the way open and leaned on the doorway.

"Derek, we have two tickets sending that moron and the baby out of town. The pact failed." Derek turned and narrowed his eyes at Peter. There was an air of mistrust around him as he set the razor down on the counter top, lifting up a towel to wipe his face.

"What happened."

"Alicia failed to mention her connections to Beacon Hills to us, and it turns out she has an entire family living here. Parents and brother. Well, I should say father and brother, because Deucalion sent her mother's head to her in a box last night." Peter said it as if it were normal news, and Stiles moved to put his hand over one of Luna's ears, pressing her other against his chest. Somehow he felt the baby shouldn't be exposed to this sort of violence, even if the family acted like it was normal.

"Damnit," Derek muttered as he threw the towel on the counter, picking up his jacket off the hook near the shower. "I can't leave Luna with Stiles."

"Don't tell me I have to remind you that Luna is dead if we enter a turf war with the Alpha pack," Peter whispered vehemently, his eyes locked on Derek's. "Stiles will be going out of town to Laura. Stiles will drop her off." There was obvious displeasure in Derek's expression. Even though he was normally hard to read and maintained an excellent poker face, Stiles almost felt an aura of sadness around him at this sudden development.

"I don't mean to interrupt," Stiles interjected, and the two looked towards him. "But I'm not going out of town on a sudden voyage. Besides, if this is so dangerous..." He paused.

"Go on," Peter probed, expressing vague interest in Stiles' contribution to the conversation.

"Well, if it's so dangerous going to...war with an 'Alpha pack', shouldn't you all skip town? This kid has already lost a mother, she doesn't need her father to go get killed over a pissing contest. I mean, yeah, you've been here awhile but your prosperity should really come before property wars."

"You don't get it. We have something the Alpha pack wants and we can't give. What we have would mean the end to your lovely little useless life as it is."

"I don't care if things change for me," Stiles argued, his tone combative. He looked at Derek, his hand still firmly over Luna's ear. She didn't seem to mind being pressed against Stiles' chest - he didn't realize how calmed she was by his heartbeat. "You don't abandon your kid. So take the ticket and get out of here. I'll do whatever Derek was going to do."

Peter stared blankly at Stiles, and then burst out laughing. He put a hand over his mouth, the amusement too strong for him to suppress. "Oh, that's a good one." Derek shook his head, a slight smile on his lips.

"I appreciate the offer Stiles, but you really..."

"What? Yeah, I'm not super strong. I'm not even strong for a human. But I'm smart. I know it might not come across all the time, but I really- I'm really smart." He looked at Peter, who was still chuckling. "Seriously, I'm really smart. I could run laps around this guy's intelligence." He pointed at Peter, taking his hand off Luna's head finally. She looked up at him with a strong curious expression, but went back to pressing her ear against his chest. Peter looked insulted, suddenly no longer laughing.

"Watch it."

"No, maybe he's got something," Derek motioned to Stiles, looking at Peter. "Maybe we could use him. And he's right, I think the safest place for Luna is with the pack. With me."

"If you say so," Peter frowned, and motioned for Stiles to move. Stiles walked down the steps, the other two trailing behind him. "The issue we have right now is we need to get what's left of the Boyd family out of the vault. We're not sure if either of them are still alive, but as long as they're captured, Alicia's wavering on her alliance."

"What vault," Stiles asked, and Peter took a blueprint out of his pocket. He handed unfolded over Stiles' shoulder, and Stiles held it up as he walked into the kitchen, laying it out on the kitchen table. It looked like an old bank blueprint. "Beacon Hills First National Bank...This place shut down years ago. It's huge. Hey, this must be where they had me. I remember, right here. That door is reinforced with bars." He pointed at a door on the map.

"Good to know," Derek said as he took a pen out of a cup on the counter, writing BARS on the blueprint by the door. "Anything else?"

"Well, this place isn't secure anymore. What I mean, is the electricity isn't running. Most banks depend on back up generators when they lose power because everything's being protected by processes run on electricity," Stiles pointed at where the largest vault was, and then tapped it. "I bet they have them there. Which means the only thing keeping us from them is probably a lot of heavy doors, and probably a ton of steel reinforcement that we can't get through. But if we can find the backup generator, and turn the electricity back on, we could totally take the place over from the security room. If everything's still working, that is. I mean, this place has been closed for eight or so years, so we're working with primitive tech. But it'd take them by surprise. I doubt they're even watching this section of the bank. And from when I was there, the vents are large enough to crawl through - we could crawl through the vents to the security room, and then someone else could jump start the power with the generator. It'd give us enough time to have someone jump out of a vent near the vault, get the two people, pull them back up in the vents, and get out. I mean, it's just a thought. I'm not positive on any of this..."

"No, it's actually really good," Derek mused out loud, looking at the blueprints. "You sure you can handle the security room stuff? I mean, if my mom okay's this?" Derek gave Stiles a hopeful glance. He felt obligated to respond positively, something in Derek's puppy-like expression inspired him.

"Yeah, I'd totally be able to handle it. I mean, I dabble in all that tech stuff."

"I hate to break the love," Peter put his hand on the blueprint, pointing at the security room. "But you're basing this entire operation on an assumption they're not using this room. What if they're using it? What if they have them in another vault?"

"Well, two things," Stiles pointed at the left wing of the upstairs. "I remember the reason this place was closed was because there was damage to the foundation when someone was trying to break into vaults. My dad mentioned it. The explosive damage to the integrity of the place was too extensive, that's why they rebuilt the building somewhere else. So all these vaults are useless. This large vault is in the basement, and no where near the damage. And I'm just guessing the security room isn't being used because when they shut down banks, they probably lock that area up after destroying all the files. And why would they use that area? It's not like there's a place to hook up their wifi there. They probably are just using the place because it's the one building the city has been avoiding demolishing because it'd cost too much."

"What makes you think that the wiring in that place can be used after an explosion?" Peter challenged, looking at Stiles. Stiles' mouth gaped, trying to grasp at a reason.

"I mean...I guess, maybe it wouldn't be working but, I mean, what choices do we have? It's better than storming inside and going, hey, we're here, let's dance! What's your idea, huh? You have a better one?"

"If it were up to me, we'd just take out the building. But Talia is convinced that two lives should be saved instead of sacrificed. Fine, propose this idea to Talia." Peter put a hand through his own hair, glaring at the blueprint and sighed. "Guess we'll find out if it works."

Derek retrieved his phone from his pocket, walking off into the living room as he made the call. Stiles looked at Luna, who was still listening to his chest. He poked her chubby little cheek, and she looked up at him with those deep green eyes. "Hey," He said with a smile, and she smiled back at him.

"Papa," She said loudly, patting Stiles' chest. Stiles looked a bit confused, and then he pet her head.

"No, no, I'm not papa," Stiles cooed, kissing her forehead. She smiled wider, reaching her little arm up to tap his chin. "But you're the cutest Hale."

"Papa," She insisted, and then looked at Peter. Peter was giving Stiles and Luna a clearly cynical look. Stiles followed where she was staring, and then he squinted at Peter.

"What."

"You like Derek, don't you? Why don't you just ask him out. So the rest of us don't have to deal with whatever weird tension you two are having."

Stiles could feel his face turning red, and he glared at Peter with a mixture of shock and denial. "I...you're a dick."

"And you like dick. Come on, live up to it."

"I...the baby," He said, his voice tense. "Don't talk about that around the baby." He covered Luna's ear, and she smiled as she took it as a signal to put her other ear against his chest.

"What about the baby? Because she probably thinks you two are dating already. Papa Stiles. Anyways, it's disgusting. Let's quit this discussion."

If he had looked displeased before, Stiles was absolutely livid now.

"You homophobic bastard, you know, gay people should deserve the same rights and respect that heterosexual couples get." Peter put up a hand to stop Stiles before he could continue on his speech promoting gay rights.

"No, Stiles. I don't find homosexuality gross. I find the idea of my nephew dating you gross. I personally think he could do way better, but I guess whatever floats his boat." Peter looked Stiles up and down, then made a grimace. "Even if it is you. Ick."

"I'm cute," Stiles insisted, and Peter chuckled as he walked over to the fridge to get a beer.

"Right. It's always good to have confidence." The sarcasm was heavy in his voice as he popped the top of the can. Stiles turned and walked out of the room with Luna, kissing her head angrily. She made a happy noise as she gripped his shirt.

"I am too cute. Your dad's uncle is blind." He muttered angrily. "I'm banning him from my house after this is over, Luna. Between me and you. Don't tell him."

Luna stared at Stiles as he talked to her, sensing the tension in his voice. She patted him reassuringly, making him feel a little better.

"Yeah. See, you agree with me. This is why I like you."


	29. Alpha Showdown

"So you've got your walkie talkie right," Stiles leaned over the back of the driver's seat. He could tell even from a side profile that Derek was giving him a 'look' with his overly expressive dark eyebrows. Stiles chose to ignore it, looking at Peter. "And you've got yours. And you're both sure Talia and Gramma have their one walkie talkie, which by the way, I disagree with, because if they get separated we're cu-"

"We have really good hearing, Stiles," Peter interjected, putting up his hand inches from Stiles' face. "Trust me, we'll be fine."

Stiles slunk back into the backseat, looking discouraged as he thumbed through his apps and opened angry birds. With an angry mumble, he said, "Fine, tell me when we're there."

They rode in semi-tense silence for a few minutes before the car slowed and Derek parked.

It was an extremely dark night. They had to go at night, given that their mission was time sensitive. But it made it difficult for Stiles to maneuver around, even though the other two didn't seem to have a problem.

"We're going to have to walk, they'll be able to hear us if we don't." He said, and motioned for them to get out of the car. Stiles slid out and shut the door, glancing at his phone. Yep, he had lost his signal. This is why they needed the walkie talkies - they had absolutely zero communication once they were separated without them. He sensed Derek was staring, and he glanced up. The other was staring at him with a penetrating gaze.

"What?" Stiles said, eyebrow raising curiously. "What'd I do?"

"You weren't wearing your seat belt." Derek stated in cold disbelief, and then crossed his arms over his chest. Stiles opened his mouth, but as he struggled to grasp an explanation, he found himself without one. He actually hadn't realized he didn't wear one, and being that he was in the back seat, he didn't think anyone would care. Besides, they were going on what was possibly a death mission, he really didn't think he had to worry about car safety at this point. Since he had made such a huge deal about seat belt safety, he really felt like a fool. Yet, he could have sworn there was a smirk on Derek's face - even though he looked betrayed, he seemed to find it humorous.

"Are you two over there making out," Peter called from the other side of the car, and motioned for the two to tag along. "We've got a ways to go."

Stiles trailed after Derek as the other shook his head and started off through the woods. He tried to bite the inside of his mouth to keep from talking, because he wasn't exactly sure who was watching from where, and he didn't want to blow this mission. The temptation arose every time he had to jog to catch up to Derek and Peter, because they were speed walking through the forest. He could just feel the complaint lingering on the tip of his tongue, but he refrained.

When they reached the grand abandoned building, he waited for Peter's cue to begin treading through the overgrown brush. Peter separated from them, scoping out the building exterior. Derek and Stiles headed for the back emergency exit door, which was solid steel and barred shut. Stiles opened his mouth to say something, but Derek put a finger on his own mouth, signaling him to shut it. Stiles put up his hands defensively, like he was trying to express how not offended he was when truly he wanted to call the taller guy a dick.

Derek ran his hand over one of the two steel bars, then gripped it and gave it a quick and angled tug. It popped off the side, almost inaudibly. He did the same with the second bar, and then laid both of them on the ground by the door. Then the other opened the door slowly, trying to prevent it from creaking from joints that desperately needed oiling. They crept their way inside. The darkness was so overpowering that Stiles couldn't see and tripped over his own foot. Derek's arm shot out and grabbed his arm before he fell. "What'd you trip on? You okay?"

"I'm fine, it's nothing," Stiles reassured him, though he was furious at himself. If he was going to trip, couldn't it be on something other than his own damn feet? He wasn't going to admit that. "Okay, let's keep going. There's a stairwell down and then another door, and we should get to the storage area. In the corner there's a door to the old electronics unit. The electrical panel is in there."

"Okay," Derek let go of Stiles' arm. The support had actually been somewhat comforting, considering he was pretty shaken up and they hadn't even run into anyone. He reached in his pocket to grab his walkie talkie, but didn't turn it on.

They found the old wooden doorway to the stairwell, obviously this area was where they had converted the original 1800s building into a new-age technology added functional one. Stiles followed Derek closely, figuring if he focused on the other's steps he wouldn't get distracted. When they reached the storage room, Derek put out his hand. "Wait, there's stuff all over the floor."

"What sort of stuff?" Stiles asked curiously, and Derek didn't reply. Instead he felt in the darkness fingers intertwining with his walkie-talkie free hand, gripping his hand. "Um, Derek, I can walk."

"No, there's papers everywhere. Just- we're holding hands until we're over the tripping hazard." Stiles blushed furiously, and didn't object. If he hadn't almost fallen on his face in a battle against gravity, maybe Derek wouldn't have to baby him. He let the other lead him through the mess, and indeed he did feel the clutter on the floor underfoot. Apparently this area hadn't been used in a long while - the papers smelled strongly of mildew and glue. The overpoweringly pungent old book smell polluted the air as they walked further in. Stiles heard another pop similar to the metallic one on the door from outside, and then another, and then a door opening. Derek's hand never left his.

"You can do that with one damn hand," Stiles said, not able to suppress the sound of envy in his tone.

"Yeah," Derek responded shortly, as if it was normal. He was led into the room.

In the darkness, Stiles finally realized he could have just used his phone to illuminate a path through the dark. He dropped Derek's hand and reached into his pocket, tugging out his phone and putting on the flashlight. His mind was distracted however, and he stood there staring at the dim little room in front of them. Even though he had a mission, he was thinking the hand-holding was something more, and it was actually kind of sweet Derek didn't want him to end up with a thousand paper cuts on paper that could probably have given him tetanus.

"Stiles," Derek said loudly, and Stiles jumped, gripping the phone and the walkie talkie.

"Yeah, right," Stiles commented as he stepped towards the electric panel on the wall. He switched on the walkie talkie. "Hey. Jackass, you there?"

He waited for a minute after switching it off, and suddenly a crackly response came in.

"Roger, Jackass to Grand Theft Auto, you copy me? In position. Tell me when. Over."

Stiles rolled his eyes, flipping the switch to speak, "Really? Grand Theft Auto? How long did you think on that one? Really clever." He looked at the panel, and motioned Derek over. It was locked. Derek gave another half-hearted tug to rip the door right off the panel.

The walkie talkie crackled again after a second, "Roger, GTA didn't say over. Over."

Stiles turned on the walkie talkie, frustration building steadily as he heatedly shot into the receiver, "Don't give me a hard time right now, I'm stressed out enough as it is. Fucking over. Wait, no, not over. Turn on the generator out there." He let go of the switch, then waited. He looked over at Derek, who was staring at the walkie talkie as well. "You think he pulled the switch?" He reached up and flicked some of the switches on the panel, and nothing happened. The familiar crackle began again from the walkie talkie.

"Roger, GTA needs to be clearer with his messages because I don't know when it's good to talk. It's live. Over."

Stiles passed off the phone and walkie talkie to Derek, then turned his full attention to the panel. "It can't be on. There's nothing going on." He flicked every switch, going up and down the panel.

"Roger," Derek started into the walkie talkie. "You sure we're good to go, because there's no response. Over."

"Roger," Peter responded, and then his tone changed as he said, "Well I figured this was going to happen, the generator lines are obviously dead. You know you can have back up generators but depending on what they're running on, which this one is gas, which is amazingly still half full, it's not going to do a damn thing if every circuit leading to it is corroded from age and weather. Over."

"Try it again," Derek said as he let the switch stay off, looking at Stiles. Stiles threw his hands up in the air, angry at his own plan.

"I mean, he's right, I should've thought- I mean, the generators were in a locked place outside, how can they not be- if the wires were outside, maybe...or maybe the explosion damaged the main circuit...wait," He said as he babbled, looking at the top of the circuit board. There was a prominent red switch, attached to an exposed wire. "Wait, that's. Okay," He said as he reached up, not thinking his decision through as he pressed the switched. A visible zap emitted from the board, barely missing Stiles as he stumbled back. The old building's lights slowly powered on, flickering.

"We don't have a lot of time, they're going to notice the lights," Derek hurriedly shoved the phone and walkie talkie to Stiles. Stiles looked on as the other disappeared out the door, closing it behind him.

"Hey, wait...you're supposed to be with me- wait! That's not part of the plan!" Stiles objected, walking over to the door. It wouldn't budge. He stared at the door dumbly for a moment, and then walked back over to the panel. There were several parts of it not labeled, so which ones were to the electric doors upstairs, he wouldn't know. Not only that, but if anything went live through the broken wires - they would be immersed right into an oven as the building went up. "Okay," He said to himself, turning on the walkie talkie. "Roger, grumpy has left the room. I repeat, grumpy has gone rouge. Tell me when you're in position, Mama Hale. Over." He turned it off, glancing at the door again. He could feel the fear sinking in when he didn't get a response from any of them. He read the few labels on the board - main room, bathrooms, corridors of various numbers. There were color coded switches, but what the colors meant he didn't know.

Suddenly the walkie talkie sprung to life. "This is Talia. Stiles, in position. Switch on the power." Stiles stared at the walkie talkie, and then cautiously lifted it to his mouth as he uttered out loud the creeping paranoia he had about making a mistake.

"Um, Talia...there's unlabeled switches, if I hit the wrong one the building could go up." He let go of the button, waiting for Talia to respond. It came back almost immediately.

"Stiles, they're coming. They know, lights are live - turn everything on NOW!"

He threw caution to the wind and flipped every switch on the board. He looked above him at the spider web rafters, watching the lights flicker on and off in an eerie way. With a sense of urgency, he walked over to the door and tried it, but it wouldn't budge. "Damnit Derek," He muttered, then looked up towards the vent. They didn't really need to use it now to enter the room, but if the places was on fire, he needed to get out of the windowless room in the basement. He put both the walkie talkie and phone in his pockets.

Positioning a sturdy table in front of the vent shaft, he stood on it and wiggled the vent cover with both hands. He felt something crawl on his hand, but at this point, he really needed it open. With great effort, he finally cracked it off the wall and threw it down, dusting his hands on his shirt immediately after. "Ew," He said with great disgust, and then looked up at the pitch black tunnel of a shaft. He knew it led upwards at some point; then there had to be a left and up, coming out into the hall they had come in. "I hate you so much right now, dude," Stiles muttered under his breath, knowing that the air circulation had been off for years and it was probably solid spider webs. He took out his phone, holding up the flashlight and heaved himself up as he went face first into the open hole.

The creak of the metal sounded loudly, but he couldn't pay attention to the aching walls of the ventilation system when he felt the thick sinewy webs press against his face. At first, his initial shock response was to sputter, but he didn't want to swallow an army of spiders so he kept his mouth shut and pressed on. He thudded through the man made cavern with great speed, wanting out so badly that he didn't care how much noise he made or who heard. When he finally reached the grate to the hall, he literally curled up into a ball and then kicked it so hard with his feet that it flew off the wall and hit the opposing one. He tumbled out onto the floor, coughing and shaking every limb with a wild fervor. He finally tore off his own shirt, throwing it on the floor. "Oh my god," he said out loud, no one around him. He could tell there was a growing heat in the hallway and the light bulbs in this hall were partially out. "That was the most disgusting thing I have ever fucking done. I am so done. I hate spiders. I hate spiders so much." He swatted at his neck, then ran his hands through his hair as he was certain he had them still crawling up and down his body.

He snapped out of his spidery panic when he heard footsteps behind him. He heard some unfamiliar voices, and saw the face of a young black male and a man who must have been his father being ushered through the hall by Gramma. "Gramma," Stiles said as she came towards him, but she waved for him to get out.

"Move, Stiles," She commanded, but even though her voice was powerful, it didn't stir Stiles to move. He watched the people run past, and Gramma turned to him and grabbed his bare arm. She was clearly prepared to physically drag him outside.

"No, wait- Derek, he's somewhere in there. I gotta find him." Gramma shook her head, but let go of Stiles' arm. She didn't realize her mistake and couldn't rectify it by the time Stiles bolted down the hall where she came from. He swung open the door and headed out into the newer part of the bank, looking through the smokey hallways with a cough. "Damn, something's on fire," He commented to himself, but stopped dead in his tracks when he saw a body on the floor. The lady who had thrown him at the Walcotts was beheaded on the floor. "Whoa." He froze, looking further down the hall. He could hear Talia's voice, faintly.

"It's over, Deucalion. I don't want to kill you but I will if you ever return here. Take Ennis and leave."

"I can't say I'm disappointed with this order, but I will be back. No matter what happens to me, Talia. Others are looking - you can't stop this!" Stiles heard the response, and he started running towards the end of the hall, heading to the main area. He threw open the door the rest of the way, looking in. There stood Talia, Derek and Peter, in a face off with the man. And what was more, Stiles saw why Derek didn't want him to face him- the whole group, exempt Talia, had transformed. And by transformed, Stiles could see the humanoid wolves now, their hairy distorted faces that vaguely resembled a human. He stumbled, grabbing out at a wall to keep himself up as he watched from behind the line of bank counters.

It happened too fast for him to see - the man with his cane had turned and started at Talia. Her body shifted into a wolf, as if her cells became fluid and just happened to manifest into this large majestic forest creature. The black wolf leaped at the opposing leader, ripping into him. The bald man - who must have been Ennis, considering he was the only one left in the room - he backed away, snarling. Peter took the chance to run at him, ripping into him. It was possibly more jarring than seeing a wolf go at a humanoid: seeing two of these misshaped people claw at each other was too surreal for him. He slid down the wall, not sure what he had bared witness to anymore. The sounds around him seemed to fade to a high pitch ringing noise as he put his hands over his ears, staring at the scene before him. He couldn't bring himself to look away from the blood bath. When the bodies of Deucalion and Ennis hit the floor, one's head torn off and the other's head punctured beyond repair, the Hales backed away. Once again they were human looking, though Stiles couldn't wash the image from his mind as he continued to look on in their direction. Derek looked towards the wall where Stiles had sunk down against, and he hurried over to the other.

"Stiles - what happened, where's your shirt." Stiles couldn't hear a word the other said, but he could see his mouth moving. He opened his mouth to reply, "I don't know," but he couldn't hear his own voice. Then he closed his eyes, feeling his body go limp as he let the faintness take him.


	30. The Sentence

"Stiles. Stiles, wake up."

He could feel the hair on his arms rise before his eyelids even snapped open, and he was startled into awareness. He knew he heard his father, but he flung himself against the headboard as he sat up suddenly, wary of his surroundings. After what he witnessed, his brain subconsciously woke up in fight or flight mode. Sheriff looked at him dubiously, his voice calming.

"It's okay, you're okay." His father reached out and grabbed Stiles' hand, and Stiles looked at him in a bit of a daze. "They brought you back here. That's it, Stiles. They told me it was finished. You can talk to them, but I don't want you involved in anything like this again."

"Dad," Stiles said, not really objecting, but as a way to acknowledge his comment. Sheriff leaned over as he sat on the edge of the bed, putting both hands on Stiles' hands, gripping them tightly as he looked at him with a seemingly unbreakable connection between their eyes.

"I lost your mother to something I didn't understand. I'm not losing you to something I don't understand, and probably never will. Maybe you understand the situation, but from my point of view, and from what they've told me, which as a father I am strongly disappointed that I don't know more..." His brow furrowed as he continued, "But I'm telling you the same thing I told everyone involved. You aren't getting involved with this again."

The tone his father used was unlike any he had heard before. It sounded familiar, but he couldn't recall where he heard his father speak so forcibly. It was almost as if because he said it, it was going to be true. Before this moment, he would have found it hard to believe that his father told an entire pack of werewolves an order and they listened - but now that he commanded such authority, he knew he was serious. He looked at their hands, and then frowned. "Well, yeah, when you put it that way. I mean, it's over, I'm not going to go looking for trouble."

"I find that hard to believe," Sheriff Stilinski said, a small playful grin tugging at the edge of his lips. "I'm going to be watching you like a hawk."

"I know, dad."

"I'm serious. You thought I was in your business before? You're officially number one fugitive in Beacon Hills now as far as I'm concerned. That means I'm going to be watching you twenty four seven, whether you like it or not." He stood up, putting his hands on his hips. "And when you get in trouble again, that's it. You're grounded for life. As it is, you're grounded for three weeks."

"Really?" Stiles frowned, leaning against the headboard. "You're grounding me? After I almost died! Dad, come on. Have a heart."

"I have a heart, that's why you're grounded."

"But dad," He couldn't keep the whine out of his voice as he complained, "I have like- what, four weeks before graduation? Dad, come on. Does it ban Scott? Can I see Scott? Dad- it's spring break next week, I gotta see Scott. I promised him I would help him with improving his grades!"

"Of course you can see Scott. He's family." Sheriff shrugged as he headed towards the door, opening it and looking over his shoulder. "But no Hales. I don't want to see one Hale on this property for two weeks, you hear me?"

"Aren't they living with us?" Stiles said with a confused squint. "I mean, how is that going to work? Are they pitching a tent on the street?"

"No, of course not. Their house finished construction yesterday. Said they had a lot of community help, it went quick." He patted the door frame as he stepped out. "Well, get some sleep. And remember, if you try anything, I'm going to know. I know a lot more than you think I do." Sheriff closed the door behind him, and Stiles slumped in his bed, sinking below the bed covers.

"This sucks," Stiles muttered under his breath. Last few weeks in Beacon Hills, and he was stuck inside. He reached over and grabbed his phone. Sixty eight missed texts from Scott. "Wow, Scott. Emergency baby sit and you have a melt down." He scrolls through the texts, trying not to laugh out loud at the comments. He couldn't help talking to himself as he mused over them. "Oh my god. You told your mom the baby got hairy sometimes, and your mom said she had a 'herniaism'. It's hirsutism, not herniaism. God Scott. What a fucking cover up. I mean, come on. Did your mom even fall for that," He said as he started typing back and muttered under his breath. "Fucking priceless."


	31. It's a Date

"So how'd you get my number again?" Stiles muttered into his cell, laying flat on his bed. "Coach, it's like, late."

"Cut the crap, it's 7:30, you teenagers stay up until midnight. Especially three days into spring break. And you gave me your information the first day of class, Stilinski. You know, the note card you almost refused to fill out because you said it was invasion of your privacy? Last night I finally got around to checking the test we took before the last day. You failed it."

Stiles slowly pushed himself up to a sitting position on his bed, looking confused. "Wait, what? I failed? Like below above average?"

"No, like a big fat F on your test. You got everything wrong. I mean, you even spelled your name wrong. How do you manage that. Stiles. S-T-L-L-E-S, how do you put two L's? Are you on drugs, Stilinski?"

"No! I mean, I've been having a lot of stuff going on, but...I mean, I was helping Scott, and..."

"Amazingly, McCall got a B-. Look, this F will bring down your overall score to a C+, but you can bring up your grade if you ace your finals. It's not failing, but I know grades are probably the only place in your life you come out above failure, so I thought I'd give you a call and straighten this out. Don't screw up your grades the final year, Stilinski. And don't give me any shit about senioritis, it's a make up excuse to fail everything the last year. College admissions don't take excuses, and neither do I."

"I get it coach, I'll ace the finals. I swear."

"Why do you sound exhausted? You better be studying. Look, I gotta go, Stilinski. Don't disappoint me again." Stiles heard the click of the phone, and glared at it.

"Sometimes I think he cares. Then he hangs up. Tough love." He sighed and tossed his cell onto his pillow, then buried his face in his hands. "Ughhhhhh. Why am I so damn tired. I am so sick of learning Spanish and teaching Scott." This was actually the first evening Scott wasn't at his house - ever since spring vacation started, he had been grilling his friend on various subjects. All day and night this had gone on- homemade flash cards littered his floor, books were strewn about and his lights had been left on. Around three Scott said he had work, so finally Stiles had a night to take a break. The first thing on his agenda without Scott was to sleep.

He was actually surprised he hadn't heard anything from the Hales since they parted ways after the mission to save the Boyd family. Inwardly, he really wanted closure on the whole incident by talking to the Boyds or the Hales, but his father had forbidden him. And not wanting to mess up his senior year any more than it already was, he didn't want to disobey the rules like he usually did. But the fact Derek hadn't even texted him, he felt like he had been abandoned. And secretly he missed the Hales. Most of all, he missed little Luna- the night before he had dreamed about her crawling into bed with him and he kissed her head, then woke up and found she wasn't really there. Sure, she was a lot of work, but everything seemed more fun with her around. Like it was all new. Because, well, it was- she was still figuring things out, and Stiles loved watching her amazement with everything he did.

With a heavy feeling building up inside his chest, he looked towards the window and noted the sun setting. The sky was a mixture of red and orange above the trees. He stretched, yawning as he slipped off the side of the bed, but instead of his feet supporting him he ended up sitting on the floor. "God, I can't even stand, I'm so damn tired," He muttered miserably to himself, leaning his neck against the corner of the mattress as he stared at the ceiling.

He heard a clicking of the door knob.

"Dad, Scott's not coming over tonight. You're pretty early, aren't you? It's almost eight. I thought you said you weren't going to be home before ten?" Stiles looked over the bed, spotting a familiar broody looking person standing in the doorway. "Derek?"

"Yeah," He said, stepping into the light of the room. Stiles found himself inspired to leap to his feet when he witnessed the cargo Derek had with him - Luna. He smiled wide, hurrying over to where he was in the doorway to ruffle Luna's hair. "Luna! Oh my god, I missed you, you little beast. Come here. Come to Uncle Stiles." He reached out and took the baby, smiling as she clung on like a little koala. She looked sleepy.

"Dude, why are you here? If my dad comes home he's going to be pissed." Stiles said as he held Luna close, looking at Derek.

Derek shrugged, gesturing at Luna. "You don't seem angry." A knowing smirk formed on the edge of his lips. Stiles smiled, looking down at Luna.

"Yeah, well. She's hard to get over." He looked down at Luna, who looked at him with those big green eyes. "Yeah, little lady. You're the only girl I've ever talked to on my own, and you're the first one to steal my heart. You little heart breaker." She didn't understand his words, but the tone of his voice made her clutch the fabric of his shirt even more, like she knew he was complimenting her. With even strides, he approached his bed and sat on the side, patting Luna's back comfortingly. "You look so tired. You need to sleep. You bring her blanket or something?" He asked Derek, glancing up towards him. Derek shook his head as he walked over, grabbing Stiles' blanket and tugging it up on the bed.

"Just put her down in your bed, she'll sleep anywhere."

He frowned, getting up and walking over to his closet with the baby still in his arms. "One minute. I know it's here..." He shuffled around with boxes, tugging one out from the back of the top shelf. He yanked the cardboard flaps open, then dug out a soft yet old looking knit blanket. "There we go. Knew dad shoved it up in here. Look, it's a blanket. It's Luna sized." He said to her as he pulled it around her, tucking her in his arms. Then he rocked her as he stood, kissing her head as he hummed. After she closed her eyes, he looked up at Derek. Derek was staring at him with curiosity.

"What?"

"You're humming Smash Mouth, All Star." He grinned, obviously trying not to laugh. "I'm just thinking that's probably the weirdest lullaby I've ever heard anyone hum to a baby."

"It's the first thing that came to my mind, okay," Stiles said as he glared. "It's a song from my childhood."

"It's just..." Derek stared, and Stiles cut him off.

"It's just what?"

"I don't know, she likes rock." He shrugged, sitting down on Stiles' bed. "I usually put something on and she falls to sleep to it."

"So, are you saying I should sing highway to hell to her? Or rock you like a hurricane? Maybe I should go really 80s and sing enter sandman. I mean, that's a great lullaby." Stiles rolls his eyes. Derek puts a hand over his mouth, an eyebrow arched. "What?"

"Um...nothing. Sandman came out in the 90s though." He said slowly, and Stiles huffed under his breath as he walked around the bed, laying Luna on his bed where his pillow was. She laid on her stomach, curling up her feet and snuggling the blanket. He sat down on the edge, rubbing circles on his back.

"I was wondering if you'd want to...go out with me. Like to a restaurant or something." Derek asked, looking over at Stiles. Stiles glanced at him, then back at Luna, feeling his heart beat a bit quicker.

Stiles didn't allow himself to think before he offered an excuse. "I really can't, I'm grounded."

"Well, after you're not grounded. You're over eighteen, aren't you? He's still grounding you?" Derek asked curiously, obviously poking fun at Stiles' dad's orders. Stiles kept rubbing the baby's back, smiling at her tiny snores.

"As long as I live under his roof, it's his rules. My dad is the sheriff, you think I'm going to have free reign when I hit eighteen? Ha. I wish."

Derek looked away, and Stiles watched the back of his head, waiting for his response. When he didn't say anything, he looked away as well.

"I mean, I wouldn't be against going out to a restaurant. Like just me and you." Stiles commented idly, feeling Derek's eyes back on him. "But just so you know, I'm not cheap." Hey, if he was going to get wooed by a guy - he wanted the full King treatment. "I'm actually really high maintenance. I expect flowers. Well, maybe not flowers, but if you want to give me a bouquet of twenties, that'd be awesome. And when we go to this restaurant, I get to order anything off the menu. I'm not stopping at fifteen dollars. I'm going to order like, appetizers, two things off the menu, and dessert. And if they expect payment for refills, you're looking at like eight dollars just for my drink."

He could tell Derek was grinning just from the corner of his eye, because the other snorted.

"And when we go out, you have to open all the doors and pull out my seat. And I'm not putting out on the first date either, just so you're aware. You'll be lucky to get a end date kiss. I respect myself. I don't have daddy issues."

"Stiles, it'd just be hanging out for awhile. I get it."

"No, really, if you're going to woo me, do it right," Stiles said as he looked at Derek. "I expect the finer things in life though. If you go cheap on anything, I'm going to think you just want me for my looks."

"Really." Derek added, eyebrows raised inquisitively.

"Yeah." Stiles pulled his hand away, finally sure Luna was off in dreamland. He stared at Derek, knowing the other was judging him. "Don't judge me. I'm worth it."

"You are worth it," Derek commented finally, leaning over and almost inches from his face. "...so I was thinking."

Stiles felt the other's breath against his skin, and the smile disappeared from his face, quickly replaced by a straight-lined nervous look. "Yeah?"

Derek leaned closer, eyes locked on his. "My family is getting together for early Easter celebration. To celebrate the house erection," The other seemed to enjoy putting 'erection' in there, like it was a play on words. "You want to join?"

"U..um..." Stiles stuttered, squinting. "...sure?" In hindsight, he probably should have asked what was going to go on at this party, but staring at a face as attractive as Derek's really distracted him from logic. Derek smiled slyly. Suddenly Stiles felt a hand on his leg. The combination of his eyes being locked with Derek's and the sudden feeling of a hand on his knee freaked him out, and he moved in a flailing motion and fell off the bed onto his back. "...ow..." He said from the floor as Derek laughed.

"How..." Derek started, but he obviously was chuckling too hard to finish. Stiles heard Luna groan, and then saw her tiny messy-haired head peek over the side of the bed to look at Stiles. Stiles immediately got up to get her from the edge, worried she'd tumble off too. He glared at Derek, who stopped laughing long enough to get out, "Are you okay?"

"Yeah," Stiles admitted, trying to pet Luna's hair so it laid flat. For some reason it just popped up in its wild messy state again. "You both are going to kill me," He observed as he held Luna out to Derek, and she clung on to the werewolf, snuggling into his jacket.

"You'll always be safe with me," Derek said, and Stiles gave him a peculiar look. After all, it was an interesting response to his remark - he didn't expect something serious after they had been joking. He opened his mouth to comment, but Derek put up his hand as he stood with the baby in his other arm. "I should be going, you said your dad would be back soon. I'll see you tomorrow night? Two? Meet me outside."

"I have class at two," Stiles said with a befuddled look, narrowing his eyes again.

"I mean two in the morning. Luna will be asleep, your dad will be asleep."

"Wait, are you suggesting I sneak out at night?" Stiles said, putting his hand on his hip, "Because obviously I'm grounded and that'll have to be what I do."

"I know you do it a lot. You know, I've seen you fall off a roof or two." Derek smirked as he turned. "Bye Stiles."

It occurred to Stiles that Derek was talking about the time he fell off Scott's roof - the night that he thought he was going to die when he hit the ground. Either that, or be permanently paralyzed. Then he wasn't. It had felt like something grabbed him and kept him from plummeting to the ground, but he never could quite explain why he felt that way, because he had been alone when he came to. It finally hit him that Derek must have grabbed him and put him on the ground. The shock from his discovery after linking him to the event took him by surprise, and he just stared at Derek as he left, shutting the door.

He approached the door after a minute and opened it, then looked down the empty hallway. Of course, Derek was already gone.

"Why," He said out loud, as if Derek could answer the question from wherever he had disappeared to. He assumed he already knew the answer, no matter how much he tried to push it in the back of his mind. They hadn't exactly seen eye to eye when that was going on - why did he do it? The room suddenly felt uncomfortably empty, though a feeling of the Hales' presence lingered. He stepped back, shutting his door as he walked back to his bed, laying down where Luna had been.

He felt behind his head, sensing moisture on his neck. He arced his neck to glance at the pillow. "Ew, baby drool." His hand wandered to the baby blanket by him, and he remembered how his dad had said his mother knit it for him before he was born. With a tinge of pain in his chest, he clutched it to his face, sniffing the old smell of the yarn and cardboard. It had long lost his mom's smell. "I miss you already."


	32. King of the Rock Part 1 of 2

"So you'll be back, right?" Scott asked Stiles as he watched his friend tug on a plaid shirt over his tee. "And I'm covering for you only until five, so if you're out all night, you're screwed. I have work at seven."

"Chill, Scott," Stiles said as he grabbed his wallet, shoving it in his pocket. "I'll be out like, an hour. I mean, I'm tired already, I don't really get why he made it two in the morning. It's so damn late. We're teenagers, not preteens. We don't have the energy for this crap. Did you get that Red Bull I asked for?"

"Oh yeah," Scott reached into his backpack and then tossed the can over to Stiles. "I got two, you want both?"

"No, one should be good. Last time I did three my heart almost stopped, so let's leave it at just one tonight." He cracked it, sipping. "So, I'm thinking back door. It slides, no creaking. My dad won't hear it." Stiles paced towards the door, stopping suddenly. "...aw, shit. What time is it?"

"Uh, I don't know. Lemme check," His friend dug his phone out of his bag, and then looked at it. "...um, two twelve."

Stiles started chugging the Red Bull, then threw it towards Scott, who nimbly caught it. "See you, dude," He said as he made his way quickly out the door. Once he quietly shut the door behind him, he glanced at his dad's bedroom door. Even in the darkness of the unlit hallway, he knew it was open.

He mouthed 'damnit', and then looked down. He quickly unbuckled his pants and dropped them on the floor. Then he reached down and grabbed his wallet and phone from his jeans, and shoved them in his boxers. Once he was sure they were secure, he walked down the hallway past his dad's door.

"Stiles," He heard his dad's voice, sounding a bit hoarse from being awakened from his sleep. "Where are you going?"

"Get a glass of milk and watch some tunes." Stiles said casually, motioning towards the steps. "Um, why?"

"You're not sneaking out, are you?" Sheriff inquired, his tone serious.

"No, dad. No. I mean, look, I don't even have any pants on." He motioned at his bottom half. "Unless I want to go out and get arrested for public indecency, I don't think I'm going out."

"Good." His dad said, and then said, "Make sure to try and sleep. It's a vacation week but you don't want to get off your sleeping schedule."

"Yeah, I know dad. Night." He replied, patting the doorway. He had walked towards the top of the steps when he heard his dad's voice again.

"Stiles?" He clenched his fists in frustration, mouthing 'why me' before he padded back to the doorway.

"Yeah, dad?"

"Make sure to put the milk back in the fridge when you're done with it. I don't want it to spoil."

"Yeah, I'll make sure to put it back. Night." He walked down the steps, finally letting out a sigh as he hit the bottom of the staircase. "Freedom," He said under his breath, and then ambled towards the back door in the kitchen. He slipped out, and then got out his wallet and his phone from his underpants. Texting Scott, he put "**Hey, can you toss my pants down? And get the ones I left in the hall and put them under my bed.**" He sent it, and then looked up towards the window. He waited a good minute before he heard the window panel slowly opening, and then a pair of pants hit him in the face. With a frown, he picked them up off the ground and then texted, "**Thank you for the pants to the face. See you soon.**"

He hit send, and then heard, "Hey." He nearly jumped out of his own skin as he whipped around, gripping his pants, wallet and phone in his arms.

There stood Derek, donning a red shirt, same old leather jacket, and unlike Stiles, a pair of pants actually on his body.

Stiles dropped his phone and wallet on the grass, then tugged on his jeans. "I had, difficulties. Dad. Yeah." He said in a rushed tone, pulling up the jeans and fastening them fast. He bent down to retrieve the articles off the lawn, and then motioned for the gate. "You, yeah. Let's go."

"I parked down the street." Derek commented, seemingly not phased by the fact Stiles came outside wearing his tighty whities. "So your dad didn't hear the engine kick in when we left."

"Yeah, cool. Let's go." Stiles tried getting ahead of Derek, almost jogging to get away from the other. He got to the car, opened the door and sat in the passenger's side, waiting for Derek to sit in the driver's seat. It wasn't long before the other joined him, glancing at him with a concerned look as he buckled himself in.

"You okay?" Derek asked, genuinely showing interest in Stiles' well being.

Stiles waved his hand at Derek, frowning as he pulled the seat belt over his chest and buckled himself in as well. "Yeah, fine. It's...I mean, you're good looking. For a guy. But I just...I'm not sure I'm into it, you know? I'm on the fence. I like girls. Kinda pictured little house, raising a family, white picket fence. The whole American nuclear family thing." He admitted, looking at the other to gauge his reaction. When Derek shrugged, he knew the other understood what he was trying to get across. He didn't look angry at all.

"I figured. If it makes you feel any better, I don't usually like guys. I actually hated you at first," He said as he started the car, pulling out onto the road. "In fact, I think if I didn't have Luna, I probably would have continued to hate you. You're kind of annoying."

Stiles' mouth gaped, looking appalled at Derek's honesty. Sure, he had admitted something to Derek, but at least it wasn't hurtful. "Hey."

"No, really," Derek said as he turned a corner, glancing at Stiles with a serious look. "You're a little bitch."

"Hey!"

"But I saw how you acted with Luna. And I don't know. It's been awhile since I actually saw interactions that...pure. With anyone. It reminded me of my wife." He frowned, looking at the road with a gaze Stiles could only assume was sadness. "It's rare to find people who actually give a crap about others. Especially when they're strangers."

Stiles didn't say anything at first as he thought about what Derek said. He looked out of the window, watching the trees pass by. "You know, before I knew anything about your family's...um, condition. Hereditary abnormality, whatever you want to call it," Stiles began slowly, still looking out the window. "I kept dreaming about your wife. I mean, they weren't sexual dreams or anything, so don't flip out. But dreams, and Luna was there, and she talked to me. It was a really weird dream, I remember it like it was super clear. Almost like I was actually talking to her. And I usually don't remember my dreams, you know? It was strange."

"...like you were communicating with the dead?"

Stiles looked over at Derek, squinting. "...maybe? I don't know what that's like. Aren't dead people supposed to be dead?"

"Yeah. If you believe that." Derek said as he looked at the road, glancing at the speed limit sign before he sped up a bit over the speed limit. "You probably already figured, but Beacon Hills is a hot spot for strange things. Sometimes the dead don't stay dead. Sometimes they're still hanging around. Especially when they have unfinished business, like being a mother."

"So you're telling me Paige is a ghost? And she just so happens to think this kid in high school might be a good replacement for her?" Stiles said in disbelief, not certain how they moved to 'ghosts' from dating.

"I'm telling you that Paige is still around, yeah. And maybe you're not as normal as you think. I think you've got something going on with you. A connection to the other side, I don't know. Makes you more open to the supernatural."

"Like a medium." Stiles interjected, but Derek shook his head.

"No, like a truck stop." He corrected the other, and Stiles rolled his eyes.

"Are you saying ghosts come to me because they want to sleep and pee on bushes around me? I'm lost here."

"No, Stiles, you really miss the point a lot don't you. Just stop and think about it. Why did you notice the doll on the floor before we first met? Because you saw it? Maybe. Because you sensed it beneath your chair, like something was off? And why did you pick me and Luna out of the whole room to go to? It's like you have these moments where you're aware you're you, but you're also aware there's things around you that others aren't aware of. Like a fish is attracted to water, you're attracted to the supernatural. And vice versa. There's actually a word for it, give me a few minutes to think about it. My family always deals with these weird cases, I know a lot."

"Yeah? I'm a case?" Stiles frowned, looking out the window. "Pretty sure I noticed the doll because it was the most pitiful thing I've ever witnessed. Looked like Luna murdered it when it wasn't looking, and she was dragging it around just to show people what she could do. Like a little baby threat."

Derek was quiet for awhile, which inspired Stiles to ask, "...sooooo where are we going? We're in the woods again."

"It's somewhere special. Nothing is open this late anyways," Derek turned down what looked like a really bad dirt road. Maybe there really wasn't a road here at all - it really did look like Derek was driving, literally, through the woods now. A tree trunk barely scraped past the side mirror of the car, making Stiles extremely nervous.

"I mean, I'm sure I could sneak into a bar. We don't always have to do something like..." He caught Derek looking at him with a perked eyebrow, and he finished hurriedly, "...weird."

"It's not going to be weird, I swear," Derek insisted, and stopped the car. "We're here. Come on." He leaned over, and Stiles thought he was going to start making out with him so he put his hand on Derek's face instinctively. Derek leaned back, giving Stiles a dirty look. "...what was that for?"

"You weren't leaning over to kiss me? I mean, did you take me to a make out spot? When I said I had self respect, I meant, taking it slow. Like not make out the first time we go on a date. I'm not a hussy."

"Stiles, I have a flashlight in the glove department, I was going to get it out so you can see where we're going." He leaned over and popped the drawer open, and then grabbed the black flashlight and put it against Stiles' chest. Stiles took it, a dumb expression on his face.

"Sorry," He apologized in a mumble, watching as the other got out of the car. He followed, flicking on the flashlight and trailed after Derek in the darkness.

He didn't actually need it for very long - because soon they were looking over a sea of lights from the town of Beacon Hills. It was actually extremely pretty. Since they were so far out, the stars were still shining and the city was still lit up - almost like the stars were a reflection of the cities' bed of lights. "Wow." He said as he clicked the flashlight off, staring at the city. Derek walked over to a large rock, and sat down on it. He patted the other side of it casually.

Stiles ambled over, sitting down as he looked back up at the town. For being so late, he could tell people were still out and about.

"So this is impressive," He said finally, and looked over at Derek. "But I mean, the impressive lasts for a few minutes. What else are we doing?"

"I thought we could talk about what you saw at the bank," Derek said out loud, and Stiles immediately felt a feeling of intense fear wash over him. Just the memory of that bloodbath was enough to ruin the moment.

"I think we really could...wait on that." Stiles assured Derek, but the other shook his head.

"Stiles, what you saw was extremely gory. I don't want you to develop PTSD from it. Look, I should have been forward with you before, and shown you what happens when we changed...it's like a transformation into a human hybrid. My mom and my grandma, they're full wolf. You saw that. You seemed okay with it. But at the bank you totally shut down after what you saw. I think talking about it probably would get it off your chest."

Stiles was quiet as he let Derek stare at him, waiting for an answer. When he didn't get one, Derek frowned and looked at the town too.

"What we have is considered a curse and a gift. The gift is being able to do things that humans can't. The curse- I don't want you to be afraid of me when I'm my true self."

He felt the bad feeling creep up in his chest again, like a ball of darkness squeezing his heart. But at the same time, it had changed - he was feeling that fear, and now also remorse. Derek wasn't a bad guy. Even if he was a dick sometimes, he wasn't bad. In fact, he had done a lot of good, including raising his daughter as a single father. He had strength besides his physical strength that Stiles secretly admired. And now he couldn't quite make himself admit to Derek that he was scared of him, not because of who he was, but what he could do. And the sad thing about it was Derek had revealed he already knew, which meant he faced this before. No wonder he seemed to have few friends. Maybe all his friends outside his family didn't actually know everything about him.

"Derek," Stiles said, but stopped. He looked at Derek, noticing the other was looking straight ahead now. "Look, I...it's not...I'm just not used to it. I'm sure I'll get over it. You're cool. Really. I mean, you do a lot of cool things..."

"You are horrible at pep talks," Derek observed, and Stiles couldn't help but grin at the response.

"Hey, I'm trying to come out in the open about my feelings, okay? Sure, I'm not graceful with words when they're from the heart. I'm trying. Just...tell me," He leaned over, waiting for Derek's eyes to meet his again. "How'd Paige react?"

Derek looked away when Stiles asked the question, looking at his hands. Stiles immediately noticed the tension rise between them.

"Paige knew a year after we were dating. We still got married. She was...accepting. Immediately. She was unique that way, you know? So accepting, so quickly. Everyone loved Paige. She was smart." He frowned. "I...the circumstances around her death, I don't want to talk about them."

"I...I didn't ask, I just wondered how she took the whole man wolf thing. I mean, seems like something that would be interesting to find out." He squinted as he stared at the stars. "Like, I just picture someone coming up to you with a cake on a full moon and you're pissed there's coconut on it and you wolf out and throw it on the ground. Like in that one music video." He motions like he's throwing something on the ground, lips pursed. "Bam."

"You are a strange, strange person." Derek mused out loud, watching Stiles. "Strange."

"Hey, I'm so strange because I'm normal. You know it, I know it." He objected openly, shoving Derek playfully. When the other didn't move even an inch, like he was a solid rock, he frowned. "...damn, you're like a statue."

"Thanks." Derek said, shoving Stiles. The other fell off the rock. "You're kind of like a bobo doll."

Stiles glared up from the dusty ground, and then stood to his feet. "Asshole." He sat down on the rock again, looking out over the beautiful scene. The chirping of the crickets was almost like a lullaby as they sat taking in the sight. "You know, right now...it would be a good time to make out. I'm not telling you to, but this spot. It's like the best make out spot. I'm actually surprised I've never been here before. ...wait, no, I'm not surprised." He frowned, turning to look at Derek. As he turned, Derek's lips caught him by surprise. It was a quick peck on the lips, and Stiles blinked when it was over.

"Um." He said, and Derek laughed.

"What?"

"Just...really? That was it?" He said, dumbfounded. "I mean, thanks for wearing chapstick, your lips are great. But really, that short? My lips are cold."

"Stiles, I'm not making out with you the first date. You told me no," Derek said, looking away. Stiles felt a little cheated, but he was kind of relieved too, because the pressure was suddenly lifted. "Do you shave?"

"Yeah, daily." Stiles responded casually. "Why?"

"Because your skin is really soft. I mean, possibly even softer than a woman's."

"Douche."

"No, I'm serious! I'm jealous!"

"It's my aftershave, okay? I have really good aftershave." He frowned, hunching over on the rock. "I'm not a woman. But I admit, I like putting lotion on my face once in awhile. It feels better. You should try. Your face is like a lumberjack's."

"Hey, you like my face," Derek said with a smile, nudging Stiles lightly. This time he didn't want to shove the other off the rock. Stiles shrugged.

"It's okay."

"So when do you have to be back? Because we could swing by Taco Bell and get some food."

"Ah, yes. You know, there's probably a line. Lots of teens on break with munchies," Stiles joked, standing and glancing at his phone. "Wow, it's already two fifty? Crap. I have to be back for sure by five, but knowing my dad, he's probably going to realize I'm gone by four. So let's go get some tacos."

"Sure. Let's go," Derek hopped off the rock, then strode over to the vehicle. As they climbed in, he looked at Stiles. "You sure you don't have any questions about the whole bank incident?"

Stiles shook his head, even though inside he felt like screaming a list of questions so long that he was sure it'd be eleven in the morning before he'd finish. "No, I'm good. If I have questions, I'll tell you, okay?"

"Yeah, okay. Thanks," Derek said as he backed out, turning the car around. "By the way, the party is this weekend. You're going to have to find a way to sneak out during the day."

"Great," Stiles muttered, staring at the road. "Dad's going to so ground me until I'm eighty."


	33. Egg Hunt: Level Impossible

"Stiles, I have to go in." His father said from the kitchen, leaning on the door to look at his son. Stiles was sure that he was only doing it because he knew Stiles' poker face wasn't that good. "You're not going to sneak out, are you?"

"Where would I even go," Stiles said, feigning an offended look as he glared at his dad. "I'm not popular."

"Stiles."

"I won't," Stiles said, though he was worried his father would catch him in his lie. He didn't break eye contact with his dad as the other stared, and finally his father looked away and grabbed his jacket off the coat rack. As he slipped it on and rounded the counter corner to grab his carrier mug of coffee, his gaze fell on his son again.

"You better not. I'll be back tonight. But I'm not telling you when so I will know if you sneak out. You don't even know if I'll be back for lunch, which is in two hours. Just let that soak in, Stiles. And if I find out you've gone out when I explicitly instructed you not to, you will be grounded for the rest of the time you spend living under my roof. You understand?"

"Yeah, dad. I'm not going to sneak out. But if Scott comes over, I'm going to let him in." Stiles admitted, hoping his feigned honesty his father took as the reason for his poor poker face.

Sheriff smiled hesitantly, and then nodded as he headed towards the door and grabbed his keys from his pocket. "Tell him he's got a growing pile of clothes on the laundry table in the basement. He should really take it home before I give it to good will."

"Not nice," Stiles called after his father, waiting for the sound of the lock clinking before he let an exhale of relief escape beyond his lips. He could spin an awful good lie to people who didn't know him. But his father was a different entity altogether - their blood bond somehow gave him the gift of telling everything Stiles was thinking before he even expressed it, including finding out if he was lying to his face. He glanced down at his phone and sent a snapchat message to Scott of his grumpy face and the message 'come by and pick me up he's gone'.

He shoved away his plate of half-eaten toast and the tattered remains of scrambled eggs, then slipped out of his chair and hurried up the steps. In a whirlwind, he went from donning a set of flannel pajamas to a shirt with jeans. Tugging on a hat and a pair of socks, he ambled down the steps and then slipped on his shoes and went out the backdoor. Today, he had to act like a convicted criminal. He knew his father would have little police helpers looking out for him, which meant they were potentially everywhere that had a road or sidewalk.

When Scott arrived, he had rounded the fence and was leaning on it waiting for his friend. "It's about time, dude," He muttered, and Scott grinned as he tugged on Stiles' hat.

"Nice hat."

"Nice face," Stiles retorted lazily, and then motioned to the street. "What sort of ride do we have here?"

"My mom's car." Scott said slowly, and then paused. "...was I supposed to get something else?"

"No, no, your mom's car is good. Let's go."

Stiles made sure to enter the backseat instead of the passengers, even though Scott glanced over his shoulder with a grin and said, "Where to, miss?" Like a gentlemanly cab driver. Stiles rolled his eyes and slunk down in the backseat. They drove for a few minutes listening to the sound of 1990s music, and Scott drummed on the steering wheel as he waited at stop lights. Stiles continued to slink in the backseat, worried that a police car would happen upon them and then pull them over for harboring a fugitive.

"No one else has to deal with the gestapo when they get grounded," Stiles murmured under his breath, displeased about his situation. Scott snorted as he turned onto a country road, heading towards the Hales.

"No one else has a dad who's Sheriff. It'll be fine. I mean, what is he going to do, send a police officer to the Hales' house today while you're out?"

Usually what Scott said was so unusual that Stiles cast it off as a stupid idea that he was joshing about, but this one struck him oddly. What IF his father was clever enough to send a police officer out to the Hales', not to their house, to check if Stiles was there? All he had to file under a report was a 'disturbance' and a reason to be checking in, and that was it. "Oh my god."

"Stiles, chill, your dad isn't that nuts," Scott assured his friend, realizing his comment triggered Stiles' paranoia. "It'll be fine. Hey, we're...wow. Hales celebrate Easter."

The front of the newly painted house had peel-stickers on the windows of the Easter bunny and colorful eggs. A giant blow up rabbit was sitting with a basket in the front yard, bouncing in the slight wind. And on top of it, egg ropes were hanging in the newly budding trees. "But Easter isn't for another...few weeks? What is this?" Stiles muttered under his breath, and Scott shrugged, starting out of the vehicle. Stiles slipped out as well, and the two of them headed for the front porch.

As they stood there, Stiles looked expectantly at the door knocker, nodding towards it. Scott's eyebrows raised, and he looked momentarily shocked. "Me? It's your booty call, dude," Scott said in a quiet voice, and Stiles squinted his eyes at him.

"...booty call?" Stiles rolled his eyes yet again and grabbed the knocker. Before he could start rapping the metal against the door, Peter yanked open the door and Stiles stumbled inwards. He landed with a thud on his hands and knees on the wooden floor.

"Wow," Peter mused as he stared down at Stiles. "What an entrance."

"Shut up," Stiles sulked as he pulled himself off the floor, huffing in irritation. "Where's Derek?"

"He's upstairs with the ankle biter," Peter said as he opened the door further, eyeing Scott with suspicion. "Why is he here?"

"Because...we were both invited?" Stiles responded slowly, unsure of how to proceed. In actuality, Scott wasn't invited, but Stiles assumed he was invited. Like a plus one on an invitation. Peter stared at Scott as he walked past him, giving him a frown.

"Yeah," Scott insisted, "Invited."

"I wasn't told he was invited," Peter stated, and closed the door behind them. There was no turning back now. "But what's one more goon to the mix if we've already got one?"

"Hey," Stiles warned Peter, and Peter poked his forehead as he walked by, nimbly jogging up the steps and disappearing down a hallway without another word. Stiles looked up the grand staircase, and then waited for some sort of indication they should go somewhere else in the house. It was sort of weird to just be invited in and then left to their own devices instead of guided around like an actual guest. After hearing some chatter from somewhere in the house, Stiles looked warily at Scott. "Should we like...move? Up there?"

"What if they're up their naked?" Scott proposed, nervous. "We can't just go walking around their house, Stiles, let's just...wait."

And that's what they did. For six whole minutes, Stiles and Scott stood awkwardly in the foyer waiting for someone to come traipsing by. When Derek started down the steps with little Luna in his arms, he gave them a surprised look as he narrowed his eyes and stopped mid-steps.

His eyebrows were knit together in bafflement as he said, "Wait...you've been waiting? Who answered the door? ...wait, don't answer that. Peter," He called up the steps, and then when there was a lack of a response, he continued. "You're a douchebag."

"Yes I am," Peter yelled back, an obvious air of pride in his tone.

"Have you guys had breakfast?" Derek asked as he strode past the two, and then motioned to a closet nearby. "You can hang your coat in there, Scott." Scott walked over and threw his jacket in, and then they trailed after the baby wielding father as he made his way into what looked like a nicely renovated kitchen.

"Yeah, I ate, but...wow. Seriously, you had this rebuilt so fast," Stiles said as he reached out, letting his fingers slide on the granite counter top of the kitchen island. "How is this even possible? It looks great."

Derek put Luna in her high chair, and she started smacking the tray with her hands. The ears on her little gray bunny outfit bobbed as she looked at Stiles, smiling. Stiles waved at her, a little smile creeping up on his lips as his attention from the conversation faded and squarely fell on the little show-stopper in the bunny onesie. "Hey there," He said with a smile, walking over to her.

She put her arms out to indicate she wanted out of the chair, and Stiles almost fell for it before Derek said sternly, "No." Stiles jumped as the other came up behind him, handing her a plastic bowl of banana pieces. His eyes met Stiles as he stopped close. "She needs to learn to sit at the table, she'll try and get anyone to take her out of a chair."

"But I...Sorry," Stiles sputtered, backing off as he headed to the actual table, pulling out an antique looking chair. "So where's the party?"

"Well the party is in the evening but...I thought you guys might like the Easter egg hunt. You're in lacrosse, aren't you?" Derek said with a coy smile, pulling out a chair. Scott had taken a seat near Stiles, but he was closer to the centerpiece on the table - an array of cheeses and meat. When he pointed at the center piece and Derek shrugged, Scott took it as a sign he could fill his face, which he did eagerly.

"Yeah. Do you guys like celebrating Easter or something?" Stiles asked out of curiosity, realizing he hadn't been at an egg hunt since the community ones he went to as a kid.

Derek leaned over to take a slice of banana out of Luna's bowl, eating a piece of it. She stared at him, huffing as she took two pieces and shoved them in her mouth. "Uh-uh, Luna," He said cautiously, "One at a time." Her dark eyebrows knit together like her father's as she gave him a grumpy look. "Little glutton." He said with a pleasant smile, obviously not phased by his daughter mirroring his expressions. "Yeah, we celebrate Easter every year. This is actually our favorite holiday. Not because of symbolism or anything. But this year the eggs are actually full of candy, not money. Since it's Luna's first Easter. It's been awhile since we had kids involved."

"Oh, cool." Stiles replied, staring at Luna. As Derek turned around, she took two more slices of banana and put them in her mouth, giving the back of his head a dirty look. For as hardheaded as Derek was, Luna was ten times more stubborn as her father. Stiles found it cute, but knew it would probably cause Derek a world of hurt when her actions weren't as innocent as shoving her face full of banana. "So we're going to have an Easter egg hunt and then we go home, right? Because I don't know when my dad is going home, and trust me, if he catches me outside the house, I'm dead. Not just dead, but undead, because my dad will make sure I suffer on all levels of existence, okay?"

"Don't worry," Derek said with a comforting smile, which actually startled Stiles a bit. It was somehow unusual for him to look pleasant, and when he did, he actually looked...normal. "It's only going to take like ten minutes."

"Really? How many eggs are there?" Stiles said as he looked at Luna again, who now was shoving three slices in her mouth at a time, and it was evident her cheeks were so full she wasn't swallowing.

"Five thousand."

Scott spit out the hunk of meat he was eating, and Derek glared at him. "Five thousand? Like, three zeros after five?" Scott exclaimed, obviously keying in to the part of the conversation that interested him. "Did you rob the Easter bunny?" Stiles was equally shocked, but Scott regurgitating his food was a bit more shocking and a lot more disgusting.

"Dude, get a napkin," Stiles said, and Scott reached into the dispenser and yanked one out, cleaning up his food pile. "Derek, I'm going to be brutally honest here - five thousand? You've got to be joking, that's going to take days. Even egg hunts at the community only have three hundred and it takes kids hours to finish."

"Kids, Stiles. I'm going to admit to you, we don't play humanely. In fact, this egg hunt probably won't be like any you've been to before." Derek smirked as he turned, seeing his daughter look like a human chipmunk. "Luna! Spit it out!" He reached over, squeezing her cheeks, but she squirmed and batted his hand as she went 'uh-uhm!' Finally she spit a pile of yellow in Derek's hand, and the older man scowled as he stood up to go wash his hands off. "Luna, bad. I told you one at a time. You're old enough to know what that means!" She looked cross as she watched her father storm to the sink, and she gave Stiles a teary-eyed look.

"Oh no," Stiles put up his hands. "I'm not getting involved with this Luna. You started something."

Luna's little lip quivered as she stared, and Derek came back to tug her out of her high chair, then promptly gave her a raspberry right on the cheek. The baby flailed happily and started giggling and kicking her stubby legs.

"Next time you do that, I'm going for the tummy," Derek threatened idly, and Luna smiled as she patted his cheek. "You better take that as a threat."

"Awww," Stiles said out loud. "Um...so who's in this egg hunt?"

"We invited Alicia Boyd and her clan, and...well, it's mostly a few groups in the area. They're all...like us. So you shouldn't talk about who you meet here. Whoever wins, wins a new car."

At first, Stiles didn't think he heard correctly. Similarly to his friend, Scott stared at Derek like he had said something so odd that it wasn't comprehensible.

"New car?" Stiles repeated.

"Yeah. Of your choice. Al also owns a car dealership out of town, his contribution to the event since he doesn't join in the fun." Derek kissed Luna's head, which was really the fluffy hood of her outfit. "I'm egg hunting with Luna. You two can be team mates. Usually you don't have a team mate, but..."

The pause was enough for Stiles to get the idea.

"But we're human," Stiles finished for Derek, and glared. "Yeah, we get it. Do we get a handicap too? Because I think if we lack super human speed we should get more handicaps."

"Sorry, you're going to have to figure out a plan. Anyways, my mom is hiding the eggs in the woods. Get ready, it starts in...oh. Five minutes. Come on, let's go outside."

When they arrived outside, there wasn't another soul around. Stiles looked at Derek peculiarly, wondering if he was telling the truth about an egg hunt. There wasn't a brightly colored egg in sight. Scott had followed them out the back door, and he too was looking around. Derek headed to an outdoor crate and yanked out a few pillowcases, and then handed them to Stiles and Scott as he held Luna with one arm. "So here's the rules. Be as brutal as you want, but everyone knows not to hurt you or anyone under fifteen. That's the first rule. Next rule, what's in your bag is yours but if it's on the ground, it's gone. So don't lose any eggs. And the third rule is don't go near Peter."

"Why?" Stiles asked, even though he figured this rule had a very good reason.

"Because Peter ignores all the rules usually and hasn't lost in five years. Trust me, you see Peter, just go to another area."

"Okay, we can handle that," Stiles said, looking at Scott, then back at Derek. "When do we start? Where is everyone?"

"Since the grounds are so big where the eggs are hiding, we spread out when we begin. They know the time when it starts, don't worry. You might run into people who are hunting. Maybe you guys should stick with me..." He said thoughtfully, but Scott shook his head.

"Dude, there's a car. And you're going to cramp our egg earning potential. I'm totally going as far from everyone else and getting every egg I see." Scott stood ready, looking like he was going to run off at first chance. "When do we go?"

"You could start now if you wanted. Just so you know, if you hit a blue line of flags, you've gone too far, just turn around and keep hunting." Derek said, and then leaned over to whisper in Stiles' ear. "Watch out for him."

Stiles nodded, and as Scott took off into the woods he followed him. They jumped over a few logs. Scott stopped after jogging for at least three minutes, and then stopped and turned to Stiles. "Do you see even one damn egg in this clearing? I think he's bullshitting us! There's no eggs here!" His friend looked around the clearing. Really, he couldn't see a damn bright colored egg in his vicinity. That was until he looked up, high up in the tree. There it was, in between the cranny of a branch and trunk, he saw it - a camouflaged egg.

"Oh my god." Stiles said as he walked over, feeling Scott watching him close as he climbed up the trunk, using the branches as a natural ladder. He snatched the egg and held it up to Scott. "If it wasn't hard enough with the competition, they bought camo eggs. Camo eggs, Scott. We're not going to win the car, just admit it."

"No, Stiles - you don't get it. If I get a new car, you know how set I am?" He said with desperation as he grabbed the egg from Stiles and shoved it in his pillowcase. "Let's get sticks and start hitting bushes and leaf piles."

So they began the most tedious egg hunt in history. Stiles had a broad stick in his hand that he used to pry eggs off of branches, and Scott smacked every space he could reach until it produced an egg. After beating a bush for a minute, he'd continue on, his pillowcase hanging limply by his side. Stiles trailed after his friend when he changed spots. He could hear growling in the distance, which made his hair stand up on the nape of his neck, but he assumed it was the competition. "Scott, the growling is getting closer. Let's move to another spot."

They continued doing this for at least five minutes until he saw something glorious. "Scott, Scott! Look! They tied up a bunch of eggs in a trap, it's way up in that tree!" He pointed upwards, and Scott spotted the net full of at least a hundred camo eggs. Enthusiastically, his friend tried scaling the tree and fell on his ass. "No, stop." Stiles commanded, and then pointed at the rope holding the bag up there. "We cut this, and we have the eggs."

"I didn't bring anything sharp," Scott uttered in sheer gloom from where he sat on the ground, holding his pillowcase of twenty or so eggs. "You have anything?"

Stiles patted his jean pockets, and then his shirt pockets. "Nope. Maybe we could like...burn it. Burn the rope."

He felt around the ground for awhile until he got another stick, and started rubbing them together underneath the rope. They both startled at the sound of a voice behind them.

"And so the cavemen attempt securing the prize," Peter said loudly, walking over with a grin on his face. He looked at Stiles' sticks with vague amusement. "You're not even doing it right."

"I am doing it right. This is our haul, Peter, get lost." Stiles insisted, and watched as Peter extended his pointer finger. A long nail protruded from his finger, and he waved it in Stiles' face.

"I seem to remember the rules indicate the eggs aren't yours until they're in your pillowcase," Peter said with a leisurely smile. Scott was huffing loudly behind him, suddenly on his feet and ready to defend their egg-shaped booty.

"Peter, come on, dude! You have superhuman powers to find all these eggs! There's not even that many in the net up there, let us have this one, please?"

"You seem to think I'm going to show mercy," Peter said as he held the claw near the rope. "But this is my territory, boys."

With one slick cut, the rope gave way and Peter grabbed the net full of eggs. He shoved it in his rattling pillowcase, full of eggs already. "And now, give me your eggs."

Stiles' jaw dropped as he stepped back from Peter. He knew Derek wasn't lying about avoiding Peter, but he never thought Peter would be so much a dick to bully them out of what little haul they had. "We have like, twenty five eggs combined, Peter. Seriously? Seriously, you're taking what we have? There's five thousand eggs-" Before he could protest anymore, Peter had grabbed his pillowcase and dumped the contents in his own bag, then tossed the pillowcase into Stiles' face.

"This is a hold up, boys." He walked over to Scott, and Scott backed away, his eggs clutched to his chest.

"No!" Scott yelled, and backed away. Peter smiled as he reached towards the bag, but a sudden cough made him turn his head. There stood two teenage women, tall and ethereal-like in appearance, staring at Peter. One had dark dreadlocks pulled back in a loose ponytail and the other long flowing blonde hair, both shared an judgmental look at Peter's actions.

"Peter," The dark-skinned girl with dreadlocks scolded him, her British accent thick. "Really? This is beneath even you. Let the humans have their fun, go torture someone else."

"Oh, shut up, Alicia. Like you weren't going to trip both of them and steal their eggs just to see them cry," Peter scoffed, but backed away. He was watching as the blond put her hand on her hip. "And Erica Reyes. Like you weren't going to kick them after their were already down."

"I would have kicked them if they had gotten in my way. But not because I'm a sadistic bastard looking for a cheap thrill during a community event. You're like the grinch for Easter, Peter." The girl said with a haughty tone, pursing her painted red lips. "Jeez. Such a buzzkill."

Alicia walked over to Scott, and motioned for him and Stiles to go elsewhere. "We'll babysit Peter here. Go have fun."

"Really? I don't need supervision. I know the rules." Peter glared at her back.

"Shut your flap before I slit your case wide open and let your treasures fall out," Alicia hissed, and then waved the boys again. "Go!"

Peter shrugged, smirking as he watched Scott and Stiles trip their way out of the clearing as they tried running from the situation. Once they were out in another opening, they were back to searching. "This sucks," Scott said as he sat down on a rotting log. "There's no way we can win against a pack of werewolves."

"Two packs of werewolves," Stiles reminded him, joining him on the log. He wrapped an arm around Scott's shoulder. "And I just lost what pittance I had. Go me."

"It's not fair! Why did he even invite us, we can't win." Scott whined, leaning on Stiles. Stiles continued to rub his shoulder comfortingly. "And then his dick uncle decides that he's going to single us out and steal. Why aren't they banning him from the hunt?"

"It's going to be okay, Scott. Don't take it so seriously, man," He moved his arm away and opened his mouth to say something, but he heard a loud crack underneath him. "Did you hear that? It sounded like a shift when that crack...oh my god." He moved off the log, and then walked over to the side of it. After brushing and some digging, he looked through the leaves and the mess to see inside. "Scott. Scott, you're sitting on an egg goldmine. This thing has at least a thousand eggs in it. What the hell?"

"Are you shitting me?" Scott yelled as he grabbed his bag, and then went to the opposite end. After glancing inside, he motioned for Stiles to stand back as he tried lifting the log. With one tug, the eggs were spilling out towards Stiles and scrambling on the ground. "Yes!"

They worked together to get the rest of the eggs out, filling both of their bags almost to the brim. Stiles and Scott started wandering into the forest, dreading that they might run into Peter before they found the house.

"Hopefully the house means you're safe," Stiles commented idly, and Scott kept quiet.

"Shh, dude." Scott ushered Stiles, "Don't say anything. He might be listening."

Somehow Peter had turned into an omniscient asinine presence after ten minutes of wandering, both of which they feared yet were determined to avoid.

By the time they hit the blue flags, they heard what sounded like a horn. They started back in that direction, and finally, after an hour of wandering found the house. There the contestants were counting up their eggs. The counting was possibly more obnoxious than the finding, and Stiles did the entire process as Scott handed him each egg.

Three hours had passed by the time they were done and Talia had a white dry erase board with the numbers written up on it. She slowly revealed the totals, a grin on her face.

"They cheated!" Peter yelled, and he turned to Scott and Stiles, seething. "What did you do? Is this because I've won every year and you couldn't stand having me win again? Talia, explain!"

"Peter, they found the treasure chest this year. You didn't."

"I did too! I found the net you hung!" Peter screamed, walking up to the board. "Two humans finding a thousand and ten eggs, that's ridiculous. If they didn't cheat, I'm the Queen of England."

"Then get your crown, Peter," Talia said as she motioned to the pile of eggs near Stiles and Scott. "Because they won. They found the log I hid near a thousand eggs in. The net was a honey pot."

"Damn you," Peter grumbled as he threw down his emptied pillowcase, and stormed off towards the house. Scott was gloating as he popped open some eggs, chewing happily on his candy. Derek snorted as he watched Luna pop an egg open. The look of surprise on her face was only increased when the shiny candy wrapper fell out, and she quickly snatched it up, squishing it in her fingers trying to open it.

"Here baby," Derek said as he took the candy, and peeled it open. He nearly had handed it to Luna before Stiles yelled, "Stop!"

"What?" Derek inquired, watching as Stiles grabbed the candy from a startled Luna. The baby's lip quivered.

"It's chocolate, chocolate is bad for babies, isn't it? They shouldn't have it before two years or something." He said, and then snapped open a few eggs until he found a tiny circular sucker. "Here."

"Oh yeah," Derek said after a moment, and then stared at Stiles. "I almost forgot. Guess I thought she was growing quicker than she is. Thanks."

Stiles handed the sucker to Luna after peeling off the wrapper, smiling as she sucked on it like a binkie. "Cutie." He said as he rubbed her hair.

"How did you know that?" Derek asked Stiles, and the other felt a few pairs of eyes on him besides Derek's. He could either blatantly lie, or tell the truth: he spent his spare time lately looking up information about children and their growth, different facts about keeping them happy and alive. It wasn't that he was creeping on Derek's kid, but he somehow felt like Luna needed a human presence, and he felt she had picked him. The responsibility inspired him to research.

"Um," Stiles murmured, not quite sure how to proceed. After a moment he shrugged and said, "I guess it was something I learned in biology."

With a sudden jolt of realization, it occurred to Stiles that he had forgotten one important task of his day: not to get caught sneaking out. And in the chaos of the egg hunt, he had completely forgotten about his mission. In fact, as he yanked his phone out of his pocket in a devilish fury, he realized with panic that it was three in the afternoon. How that much time had passed was beyond him, but now he couldn't contain his irrational paranoia.

"Scott!" He yelled, startling Luna to the point the sucker fell out of her mouth. Derek's eyes widened, and Erica and Alicia were pulled out of their conversation to look at Stiles. "Scott, we have to go! My dad is going to kill me!"

Scott must have felt Stiles' panic, because he took to his feet and started running around the manor to his car. The two bolted off into the front yard, and Stiles barely heard Luna going, "Hey! Hey! Ugs!" He felt guilty he didn't stay longer to give her the love she wanted, but he needed to not get banned from all social activity for the rest of his natural life.

"Speed, Scott! Speed!" Stiles insisted as he flung open the door to the backseat, and barely had shut the door before Scott made a wild u-turn and started off down the road. Dirt flung in the air and rocks hit the windshield as he sped down the road.


End file.
